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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24859447">The Blessing of the Phoenix: The Enigmaverse Episode 2</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostandMiracle42/pseuds/GhostandMiracle42'>GhostandMiracle42</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Enigmaverse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Stargate Atlantis Fusion, Australia/New Zealand/Pacific Islander Magical School, BAMF SHIELD Agents, Expanded Harry Potter Universe, F/F, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, International Confederation of Wizards (Harry Potter), Magical Cold War, Novella, Phoenix Force - Freeform, Read Gemini Curse first. Really., Reality Bending, SHIELD, Science Experiments, Sequel, South American Magic, Space Magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:14:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>48,033</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24859447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostandMiracle42/pseuds/GhostandMiracle42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been eight years since Harry Potter, Ginny Potter and the Defenders destroyed the Dark Lord Voldemort and rediscovered the lost city of Atlantis. But the Potter’s lives are going to be upended once again when the Phoenix Force arrives on Earth. It’s up to the Potters and sixteen-year-old squib Jean Grey to defend the Earth once again as the age of Superheroes begins.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Enigmaverse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Act I, Chapter 1: The Window</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Pre-story Authors Notes:</h1><p>WHAOO True Believers! We’re BACK! And we’re more bad-ass than ever!</p><p>
  <em>*Miracle coughs pointedly and shoves Ghost away from the computer.</em>
</p><p>To our returning readers, welcome back! And to our new readers, it’s a thrill to have you! I’m Miracle, my idiot of a husband is Ghost, and we will be your humble authors for this, your journey into the Enigmaverse.</p><p>
  <strong> <em> <span class="u">THIS IS THE IMPORTANT BIT!!! MUST READ!!!</span> </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">This story is a <strong>SEQUEL</strong>. Therefore, there will be boat loads of <strong>SPOILERS for </strong>the original story<strong>, Harry Potter and the Gemini Curse.</strong> You can find it by clicking our profile name – Ghost-and-Miracle42 – which appears in blue at the top of the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em> <span class="u">Harry Potter and the Gemini Curse</span> </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>By Ghost-and-Miracle42</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley wake in the aftermath of the Chamber of Secrets with a mysterious tattoo burned into their necks, they are understandably scared for their lives. But when the true nature of the mark is revealed, they are forced on an epic journey to discover just who placed the Gemini Curse upon them, and why.</em>
</p><p>It’s a <strong>400,000-word epic</strong> that is <strong>Complete </strong>and has heaps of fun concepts in it like an Australian/New Zealander Magical School, an in depth analysis of Magic in America done properly, Wakanda (because <em>Wakanda!),</em> exploration of the origins of magic as a power and wizardkind as a species, SPACE MAGIC, and the Multiverse. It also introduces all the major concepts important to this story – chief of which being the Enigma Forces and Atlantis.</p><p>This story – a sequel novella to the original – picks up eight years after that story ended, and will cover some of the events that occur in the intervening years. However, the focus will be on the year 2006. Specifically, we’re going to tell the stories of Harry and Ginny Potter, Nick Fury and Jean Grey. Furthermore, we will be setting the ground-work for the Episode 4 in our ‘Enigmaverse’ Series – our adaptation of the Avengers. Those of you who’ve read Gemini Curse already have a taste of what’s to come.</p><p><span class="u">The following chapter contains minor spoilers for the events of the Gemini Curse finale and serves as a taster of our writing style and abilities. If you enjoy this chapter, we highly recommend reading Gemini Curse before you continue.</span> The major spoilers will begin with chapter 2, and as of chapter 3 spoilers should very much be expected. It wouldn’t be much of a sequel if they weren’t.</p><p>Our plans with this piece are simple: bridge the timeline gap between the end of Gemini Curse in 1998 and the events of the Battle of New York in 2012 whilst introducing the character of Jean Grey, the superhero known as the Phoenix. From there, we have a bunch of really exciting plans for adapting the rest of the MCU.</p><p>
  <strong> <em> <span class="u">One final important note:</span> </em> </strong>
</p><p>This story is a <strong>fusion work</strong>, which means we integrated the two fandoms (the MCU and Harry Potter) together, rather than having the two worlds as separate and then having the characters cross between. For example, the Headmaster of Ilvermorny in Gemini Curse is Doctor Strange). <span class="u">We have also introduced <strong>original concepts</strong> of our own – most prominently, <strong>the Alcheringa Academy of the Magical Arts, a school of magic that services Australia, New Zealand and the Pacific Islands.</strong></span></p><p>There are also dozens of references to other franchises interwoven within the greater narrative. As such, if you spot a reference or character from a fandom or franchise other than Marvel and HP, it is very much intentional. Also, for anyone who is interested, DC Comics does exist in this world, <em>but,</em> if a character from DC appears onscreen (such as Kara Zor El, aka Supergirl, whose story serves as Episode 3 of the Enigmaverse and is being released right now) presume that they <strong>do not</strong> exist in the in-world version of DC Comics. Certain Multiverse aware characters – such as William and Clarissa O’Neill and the Travellers – are exceptions to this rule, as they either know about or have travelled to other universes.</p><p>Now, Ghost is yelling at me to get to the story, so I will bid you fairwell, and, from the pair of us, we hope you enjoy The Enigmaverse Episode 2: the Blessing of the Phoenix.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<h1>
  <em> <strong> <span class="u">The Blessing of the Phoenix: The Enigmaverse Episode 2</span> </strong> </em>
</h1>
<h1>Act I, Chapter 1: The Window</h1><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> <strong>The White House, Washington DC.</strong> </em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> <strong>January 20<sup>th</sup>, 1999.</strong> </em> </span>
</p><p>“Mr President?”</p><p>Josiah Bartlet, or, as of about three hours ago, the newly elected President of the United States of America, looked up towards the doorway into the Oval Office. He was currently on one knee, tapping the large seal of the President within the rich blue carpet of the room. His predecessor had left a letter on the Resolute Desk – the blocky, age-old English oak desk that dominated the room – which mentioned, amongst other things, that there was a secret passageway beneath the floor, accessible by lifting the carpet where the seal lay. But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how the thing lifted up.</p><p>“Mrs Landingham?” President Bartlet called, standing up and turning to the door, where his personal secretary – an elderly woman with greying hair that had once been amber – stood, an exasperated look on her face.</p><p>“What on earth are you doing, sir?”</p><p>Jed paused, debating whether admitting to exactly what he had been doing was a good idea or not. He was still trying to get used to the idea that he was actually <em>the </em>President. Winning an election and giving speeches was all well and good, but actually sitting in the <em>Oval Office</em>, with <em>your</em> photos, <em>your</em> files and <em>your</em> memorabilia on the desk, while <em>your</em> staff moving into offices down the hall, had a way of making it very real. Admitting to one of his oldest friends that he was searching for secret tunnels did not seem, to Jed’s mind, very presidential.</p><p>He was saved from answering by his Chief of Staff, Leo McGarry, entering from another door on the other side of the room. There were four doors into the Oval Office, <em>his </em>office.</p><p>“Mr President, the Joint Chiefs are ready for you.”</p><p>“Right! Send them in Leo.” Leo nodded to Mrs Landingham, and she closed the door softly behind her.</p><p>Leo stepped further inside and took up a position standing opposite one of the low couches in the centre of the room. Behind him came a number of men and women, all in military dress. The Joint Chiefs of Staff, along with the Director of Homeland Security, the Director of National Intelligence, and the heads of the FBI, CIA, and SHIELD. Then, standing at the back of the room, were two people he didn’t know. It was a room full of the most powerful people in the world, and Jed was ashamed to admit that he could only remember about half their names. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was his first day, so cut him some slack.</p><p>Bartlet gestured for the men and women to sit, and they did so as he took up a seat in an armchair, positioned so that he was at the head of the rough circle.</p><p>“Mr President,” Chairman Fitzwallace – a tall, stern, dark skinned man – began, “this meeting is classified superior-secret. What we are about to tell you cannot be told to your wife, or any other member of staff who doesn’t have clearance.”</p><p>“Superior-secret?”</p><p>“It’s a separate branch sir. Equal to top-secret but concerned with a different field.”</p><p> Bartlet frowned. He didn’t like where this was going.</p><p>“Mr President, I swear to you now that everything I’m going to tell you is the truth, and I will not make any jokes or jibes. This is, unfortunately, very real.” Bartlet leaned back in his chair and gestured for the Chairman to go on. He cast a glance to Leo, but the man’s face was unreadable.</p><p>“In May 1977, a revolution broke out across the United States. A revolution being fought by a sect of our population we didn’t know existed.”</p><p>The President’s expression turned very grim indeed at that, and most people in the room winced.</p><p>“It… was not a shining monument to our intelligence apparatus. It appears, through the use of a still highly mysterious and unfathomable power known simply as ‘magic’ a community of about 70,000 individuals across the continental United States had been living in complete autonomy and secrecy from the wider population.”</p><p>The only thing that stopped Jed from laughing was the utter seriousness of the Chairman’s tone, combined with the ashamed looks that passed across the faces of the CIA and FBI directors.</p><p>“Magic?” he repeated, his brain threatening to stall.</p><p>“<em>They</em> call it magic, sir,” the new Director of SHIELD stated. He was a tall man, also dark-skinned, with an eye-patch over one eye. His name Jed did remember. Nickolas Fury. “However, my scientists and experts have been researching it extensively since President Reagan placed all Magical Intelligence under SHIELD’s authority, and we believe this ‘magic’ is in fact an energy field of some kind generated by the presence of people, or, if the latest breakthrough is to be believed, all living things. These people, Witches and Wizards, appear to have a genetic disposition towards an ability of some kind that allows them to manipulate this field. How they do this we don’t know, as the Magical Intelligence Bureau have not been very sharing.” Fury turned towards one of the men standing at the back of the room – he wore an immaculate black suit and sunglasses, despite being inside.</p><p>Leo cleared his throat. “Mr President, these two men are Agent K of the Magical Intelligence Bureau, or MIB, and Secretary of Magical Affairs Mr Caleb McAdams. They’re both Wizards.” The two men stepped forward. The Agent saluted as if he were military, and the Secretary bowed his head in respect.</p><p>“Prior to 1977, the magical community was being governed, or repressed depending on who you ask, by an organisation calling itself MACUSA, or the Magical Congress of the United States. This congress doesn’t share much with the congress you’re thinking of sir. Its seats were hereditary, much like the House of Lords in Britain, and only represented the elite of society. It imposed strong laws in the eighteenth century prohibiting any communication or fraternisation with us, whom they call ‘No-Majs’…”</p><p>“We’re trying to come up with a less-derogatory name,” the Director of Homeland Security interjected softly.</p><p>“The law was successfully repealed in ‘65 after mass protests that spilled out into our world.”</p><p>“How did we not notice these people?” Bartlet asked, growing incredibly concerned and intrigued both at the same time.</p><p>“They call it the ‘Statute of Secrecy’,” Fury stated, still glaring at the Secretary and the Agent. “It’s an ancient spell enacted after the Spanish Inquisition. It effectively keeps them hidden from human observation or detection. It’s rearranged history to remove their existence, altered important documents, and to some extent even alters brain chemistry to make people less willing to believe in the fantastical.” Bartlet paled, but Fury just grinned. “But it doesn’t always work. If someone is acting deliberately to break the Statute, it breaks. It’s also much weaker in places with high concentrations of ambient electricity. Also, around nuclear power-plants. Willpower appears to also be a factor, as well as things that alter brain-chemistry, such as mental illness or drug use. There are extensive reports chronicling experiences during World War II that, upon closer inspection, reveal several confrontations between the Navy and wizards serving the Japanese Empire. Under my predecessor, Director Carter, SHIELD designed a drug that, when ingested, neutralises this spell’s affect permanently, leaving no side effects.” Fury looked positively thrilled. The secretary stepped forward slightly, fist clenched by his side. However, the Chairman resumed his speech before he could say anything.</p><p>“The exact circumstances of what occurred after the repeal of those laws in 1965 that caused the Revolution will follow at another briefing by the Secretary, but for the purposes of this meeting, all you need to know right now is that, after a roughly three year conflict, MACUSA was dissolved, and the leader of the revolutionaries – a No-Maj born wizard – approached President Reagan after he won office in 81 asking for assistance in setting up a government that functioned under the rule of law. Now, the Secretary of Magical Affairs – Mr Adams – oversees all elements of the magical community in the continental United States. He is elected, not appointed, and answers to you, then to the Council of Magical Authority – a body made up of seventeen Witches and Wizards representing seventeen magical electorates around the country. MIB’s job is to keep the barriers between their world and ours intact.”</p><p>“Probably a good time to point out that we currently have no power in Hawaii, Alaska, New Orleans, Florida, or Porta Rico, and to say we control west of the Sierra Nevada in more than name would be optimistic at best,” the CIA Director mumbled.</p><p>The President froze for a split second.</p><p>“Did you just reduce the United States from fifty to forty-five and a half states?” he asked, aghast.</p><p>“Another government, the Federated Kingdoms of the Druids and Mer, control the entire state of Hawaii, and have considerable influence in California,” Fury clarified, “We have strong relations with them however, so it’s not an overly threatening issue. There are about 100 wizards in Alaska by last count, and even less in Porta Rico, so there isn’t any government structure in either area. And Florida… well, you’ll need to see <em>that</em> to believe it.”</p><p>“And, no offence Mr President, but the New Orleans magical community has considered itself part of Magical Quebecois, not America, since the Louisiana Purchase,” the Secretary said, with just a hint of condescension in his voice.</p><p>Bartlet shook his head, trying desperately not to drown in all the new information his brain was trying to reject.</p><p>“Okay. If history isn’t the point of this briefing, then what is?”</p><p>Fury handed him a folder.</p><p>“They are.” He opened the booklet, and on the first page was a photo of two teenagers. A boy and a girl. One had pitch black hair and green eyes, with the faded outline of a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The girl was slightly shorter than the boy, and had hair the colour of burning embers. She had a thick dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, chocolate eyes, and a round face. Both of them had a hardness to their visages that suggested they’d seen conflict, despite their ages.</p><p>“Harry and Ginevra Potter. 19 and 18 years old. They are currently in possession of the most powerful weapon on the planet.” Bartlet snapped up to meet Fury’s gaze.</p><p>“It’s, and again, I promise I’m not joking, an alien space-ship,” the Chairman said. Jed’s jaw slid open slightly.</p><p>“Oh, it’s ten-million times better than that sir. Turn the page.” Bartlet did so. The photo didn’t seem real. It was of a city, easily the size of Manhattan, made of soaring silver metal towers. Flying around it were creatures identical to ancient depictions of dragons, and the entire structure was enclosed within a dome of transparent energy.</p><p>“It’s an alien metropolis, with the capability to travel through space, launch targeted strikes against any city or facility on the planet with no warning, shield against our most powerful Nuclear assault and transport anyone anywhere in the world instantly. And that’s only what they’ve discovered so far.”</p><p>Bartlet turned the page again with shaking hands. It held a rough blueprint of the… of the <em>alien city</em>. As well as a GPS tag placing its location in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.</p><p>“And it’s being controlled by two teenagers?”</p><p>“War heroes,” the Secretary said stiffly, “Harry, Ginny and the Defenders are the only reason we still have a planet at all. If the world knew what they did…”</p><p>“Then tell me. Right now,” Bartlet said, staring back at the profile. Written below the picture of the pair were the words – <em>Power levels unknown. Consider subjects to always be armed and extremely dangerous.</em></p><p>“Who are they?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> <span class="u"> <strong>The Ruins of Hogwarts Castle, Scotland</strong> </span> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <span class="u"> <strong>May 15<sup>th</sup>, 2006</strong> </span> </em>
</p><p>Hermione Granger shifted from foot to foot as her team made the final checks. She itched to do them herself, but she didn’t have the time to check every function personally. Not at this scale.</p><p>She was trying to ignore the fact that she was standing in the ruins of what had once been considered the greatest magical school of all time. Her school. She had grown up here. Now…</p><p>From her position on the raised platform they’d built in the Entrance Courtyard, Hermione had a commanding view of the entire castle. Or what was left of it. The large central tower that housed the grand staircase had a gaping hole in the ceiling, and both the Headmaster’s tower and Gryffindor Tower were just gone; the Clocktower was missing both the clock <em>and </em>the tower; and the east wing had lost an entire wall, the hallways inside easily visible. The Viaduct bridge had collapsed into the Black Lake, and the place where the Greenhouses <em>had </em>been was now a crater. She had taken a walk down to Hagrid’s Hut when she’d arrived and hadn’t been surprised to find nothing but a circle of ash. She could even see the path of dragon fire Charlie, Will and Clarissa had carved through the Forbidden Forest. But the piece of damage that haunted her the most, the place she refused to even glance at, was the central copula – where the sixth and seventh floor corridors had once been. Both floors were gone now, consumed by the destruction of the Room of Requirement. When Jessica… When Jess had…</p><p>She swallowed, refocussing herself on the Divining Rod.</p><p>It was a massive machine, shaped like a tripod with a radar-dish affixed to the top. And by massive, she meant it easily covered the <em>entire </em>courtyard. The dish itself was built of copper and was lined with thirty-nine runes patterned in a circle. Pointing up from the centre of the dish was a twenty-five-metre-long rod of Vibranium, as thick as Hermione’s wrist. <em>Vibranium.</em> The amount of money it had taken to buy that made her brain swim. It was the first purchase that had ever caused a visible decrease in the size of the gold piles in Harry’s vault; that was how expensive it was. But it would work. It <em>had </em>to work.</p><p>This was not the first time Hermione had attempted this particular experiment. In fact, she had tried it fifteen times in the past nine years – this being the sixteenth. Every time, the machine had failed. Every time, except the first.</p><p>It had been a day not unlike this one. Clear skies, a cool chill on the wind, her friends around her, the Black Lake glimmering in the distance. Only the machine they had used that day had been small enough to fit on a desk, and the friends that had been with her then – Gwen Stacy and Luna Lovegood – were long dead.</p><p>People in Hermione’s life had a tendency to leave her, one way or another. She had grown used to that years ago. It was one of the physical constants of her existence. She was a world-famous witch, and a renowned and award-winning scholar. She had official qualifications from five magical universities, and honorary ones from three more. And everyone who became close to her either died or abandoned her.</p><p>Defender. Hero. Warrior. Scientist. Legend. <em>Murderer.</em></p><p>She had discovered the Source. The origin point of all magical energy in the universe. In the <em>Multiverse</em> even. She had found it, one morning on a Hogwarts roof-top beside Luna Lovegood and Gwen Stacy, with a rickety machine cobbled together mostly from cheap cast-offs and scrap.</p><p>That was how she would be remembered. Not for all the death she left in her wake, but for discovery and wonder.</p><p>And now she was going to do it again.</p><p>She could sense it still. Over her shoulder. A silvery light hovering just out of sight and awareness. Waiting for her to surrender herself to its power. She’d exposed herself to something that day; herself and Luna. Now Luna was gone, and Hermione was getting ready to open up that pit of mystery and magic once more, regardless of the danger or stupidity of the action.</p><p>She just couldn’t bring herself to care.</p><p>“Ready!” Hermione called into her microphone. It was a muggle device, with an amp beside it to send her voice out across the ruined courtyard. With the Hogwarts wards destroyed in the battle, electrical technology had begun working in the structure again. The team had elected to use that instead of magic, less they mess up the experiment.</p><p>Her team began to check in. Parvati and Padma were monitoring output levels at the control centre behind her. American techno-mage Hank Mccoy and his assistant Katherine Pryde (one of Ginny’s friends) were stationed in a secure bunker beside the nuclear reactor they’d be using to power the machine – encased within several feet of stone beneath them for safety purposes. The final wizards in their team were ex-Triwizard champions Peter Parker of Ilvermorny and Claire O’Neill of Alcheringa. Claire – a Mer woman from Australia – manned the emergency shut-off in the Ravenclaw Common Room – warded to the nth degree. Peter was hanging from the top of the Vibranium rod by a single finger as he checked the housings for the receptacle – a giant Heliodor. Peter Parker: ex-Defender and long-time friend of Hermione’s. He was also, secretly, the New York superhero known as Spider-Man. Hermione herself had helped him build the devices attached to his wrists that allowed him to traverse so easily – web-shooters.</p><p>That comprised the magical contingent of their group. As per Ginny’s agreement with the American government, SHIELD had loaned Hermione a team of scientists – and security guards, though why they were needed she wasn’t sure – to help her with her research. She begrudgingly admitted that they were slightly smarter than her when it came to advanced physics. The leader of the scientists was one Reed Richards, an older man whose hair was staring to go grey at the temples. He and his co-scientist, Susan Storm, were currently inside one of SHIELD’s ‘Quinjets’, hovering over the Window.</p><p>The Window. This was why she was sure the experiment would work this time. During the final battle, which had occurred in this very spot, Voldemort – realising his impending defeat – had attempted to summon the <em>Great Destroyer</em>: a cosmic being of infinite destruction and ruin. Luna had, somehow – Hermione had never managed to replicate what the girl had done – channelled massive amounts of power directly from the Source to seal the Destroyer back into his prison in the Dark Multiverse. They’d thought that was the end of it. They’d been wrong.</p><p>Hermione had first discovered the giant crack in reality now hovering above the Entrance Courtyard when she’d returned to Hogwarts for the five-year anniversary of Voldemort’s defeat. Back then it had been small, a tiny fold in reality that she’d only been able to sense through her own connection to the Source. Now, three years later, it had grown to almost twice that size. To Hermione it looked like a giant scar cutting across the sky, glowing red, steaming white gaseous light seeping through it. To everyone else, it appeared as a ripple in the air, like looking at a cracked mirror.</p><p>If she performed the experiment here, it would work. She was certain of it.</p><p>Peter jumped off the Vibranium spire and used his webbing to swing up to Hermione’s raised position. He had forgone his Spider-Man paraphernalia today – everyone here knew who he was anyway. Instead he was wearing a lab-coat like Hermione, and he wore an eager expression on his face that she hadn’t seen… well since he and Mary Jane had stopped talking three months ago.</p><p>Hermione knew what happened of course – when Peter had refused to tell her, she’d simply called MJ. Long story short, she had failed in her attempts to get the pair to reconcile. But, knowing them, some crisis would emerge to push them back together, so she wasn’t <em>overly</em> worried.</p><p>“Housings are ready,” Peter said, before switching on the second microphone on Hermione’s console – the one that connected to the Quinjet.</p><p>“Dr Richards? Is your equipment ready?”</p><p>
  <em>“All functioning at 100% efficiency, Mr Parker. We’re ready to precede.”</em>
</p><p>Good. Time to do this.</p><p>“On the count of three then,” Hermione announced, moving to grip a silver lever on the console. The floating dicta-quills and digital screens stood ready beside her.</p><p>“One.”</p><p>She glanced over her shoulder at the Patil twins, who both gave her big thumbs up.</p><p>“Two.”</p><p>Peter pulled a pair of plastic goggles over his face, his glasses fitting awkwardly beneath them.</p><p>“Three.”</p><p>Hermione pulled the lever, and the runes around the copper dish lit up a dazzling white. Blue energy pulsed up the Vibranium spire, rushing towards the Window, which had begun pulsing in rhythm with the machine. A heaviness settled around them, as if gravity had suddenly increased, weighing them down. Colours began to blur, and Hermione thought she caught a glimpse of something… <em>beyond. </em>A sunless sky, a sea of mist, and a being of radiant light looking back at her.</p><p>An ear splintering shriek screamed out through Hogwarts, and the mist from the Window touched the spire and the gemstone affixed to the top.</p><p>The machine exploded.</p><p>The Window <em>ripped </em>open with a horrible shattering sound, and a shockwave blasted Hermione, Peter and the Patils from the command post, rocketing them over the cliffside and into the dark abyss below.</p><p>If anyone had been conscious to see it, a great being of cosmic fire, shaped like a giant bird of prey, broke through the Window. It hovered for a moment above the ruins, then vanished into ash.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Act I, Chapter 2: A Cold War</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Disclaimer:</h1>
<p>“Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday to me,” Ghost hummed as he and Miracle ran down the giant open-air courtyard at the top of the ‘ships keel’ of rock that speared through the ringed city of Minas Tirith, Knights of the White Tree racing after them. Secure in Miracle’s hand was the severed head of an ornate looking marble statue that looked suspiciously like Viggo Mortensen.</p>
<p>“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Ghost asked, leaping over an arrow shot from behind.</p>
<p>“Because we were bored?” Miracle provided.</p>
<p>“No, that wasn’t it.”</p>
<p>“STOP IN THE NAME OF THE KING!!!”</p>
<p>Miracle pulled out a shotgun and aimed it randomly behind her. She pulled the trigger, and the crack of the barrel elicited several cries from behind them. Miracle, frowning, pulled the gun back around.</p>
<p>“Bugger. Forgot the bullets,” she muttered to herself.</p>
<p>“I thought it was because we’re insomniacs?” Ghost asked, before pulling out a grenade and throwing it behind him.</p>
<p>“No. It was because we’re geeks. Duh.”</p>
<p>“Ahh! Yes, that was it,” he agreed. They skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliff.</p>
<p>“No, but why did we do <em>this</em>?” Ghost said, gesturing to the head.</p>
<p>“Oh! It was that bet we made with Oracle remember. That night when we got really blind drunk and sang a karaoke duet of Taylor Swift’s ‘Me!’”</p>
<p>“No. I <em>don’t</em> remember that. I was <em>blind drunk</em>. That’s kind of the point,” Ghost said pointedly, and Miracle shrugged her shoulders. “What I <em>do </em>remember, is that there are a whole <strong><em><span class="u">BUCKET LOAD OF SPOILERS FROM HERE ON IN, AND WE’RE ASSUMING YOU READ GEMINI CURSE!!!”</span></em></strong></p>
<p>The guardsmen formed a loose circle around them, swords out, black steel shining in the sunlight.</p>
<p>“Well lads, it’s been fun,” Miracle called, winking and grabbing her husband’s hand. “But we’ve got better places to be!” She leaning back over the cliff, pulling Ghost after her into freefall with a yelp.</p>
<p>“Whoa!”</p>
<p>As the ground hurtled towards them, Miracle turned back to the guards, who were staring at them in horror, and placed her arms behind her head.</p>
<p>“We don’t own any of the franchises pictured herein! Especially not Harry Potter or Marvel Comics!” She paused, brow furrowed, “Or the Lord of the Rings for that matter. But Alcheringa and its magical community were created by us! So, sit back, relax, and keep your arms and legs within your seat at all times!”</p>
<p>“Heimdall!!!! I’m really sorry about breaking your helmet, I promise I won’t do it again!” Ghost shrieked as they plummeted to their demise. The duo vanished in a tunnel of rainbow light, and two of the guards fainted. Not that Miracle could really blame them. Her awesomeness truly was unparalleled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<h1>Act I, Chapter 2: A Cold War</h1>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">The City of Alcheringa, a series of hidden islands in the Coral Sea; The Kingdom of Alcheringa, The Federated Kingdoms of the Druids and Mer.</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">March 12th, 2004</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>James Matson stood at a lectern bearing the sigil of the Federated Kingdoms of the Druids and Mer – a green palm-tree over a field of gold, with white stars in the shape of a cross in the sky – staring out over a crowd of hundreds of thousands of people. He was on an elevated platform so he could look out across the sea of people, and behind him were two giant projector screens both broadcasting a close-up of him, so the people standing almost a kilometre away could see and hear his words. He certainly wanted them heard after all. This was his third inauguration as President of the Federation, the most powerful magical nation in the Southern Hemisphere. The entire Wizarding World would be watching him. And this would be his last inauguration. His last chance to effect change before he reached his term limit of fifteen years. It had been one epic ride. He’d negotiated a peaceful de-escalation of tensions with China, and he’d forced the Japanese to stop hunting endangered whale species in Federation waters – which included most of the Pacific these days. He had been a key player in putting down the terrorist cult known as the Death Eaters and stopping their megalomaniac leader, Lord Voldemort, from destroying the world. His administration had all but eradicated the greatest predators of the Mer from their seas – the Leviathan; helped ease starvation in Indonesia; even secured an alliance with a power from beyond the stars.</p>
<p>No one would ever say that James Matson had been a lightweight. His name would go down in history. Had <em>already </em>been noted as one of the most famous magical leaders since the Statute of Secrecy had been founded. He’d won the last election with almost seventy per cent of the popular vote, a figure only ever seen once before in Federation history. But before he left office, before he took a well-deserved retirement, he wanted to solve – or at least get the workings of a solution – to the biggest threat facing his people. Extinction.</p>
<p>“Ladies and gentlemen! Merfolk of the sea and Dwarves of the stones! I come before you today as a man indebted to each and every one of you. Without your support, I would not, could not, be standing here for the third and last time.”</p>
<p>Screams echoed across the island, regardless of whether they could see the President or not. The lectern was on a raised wooden platform just outside the central tower of the island of Alcheringa – the capital city of the Federation. The first rows of the crowd sat on coral seats; their feet submerged in water. For the Tower – the seat of Federation Government – perched on an island in the centre of the large, bottomless river that cut through Alcheringa, leaving an easy route for the sea folk to travel between the land city and the inverted aquatic one beneath. The Druids and Mer. A people that existed in harmony and symbiosis with one another. A rare quality in the modern-day.</p>
<p>Further back, those who stood – the vast majority – either treaded water or held rank along the banks of the river. There were easily 20,000 people in that crowd. For a nation of only 80,000 people, that was unprecedented.</p>
<p>“I do not wish to stand before you now as a proud man, though I have every right to do so. For what person would not feel incredible pride to know that his country supported him and his decisions strongly enough to elect them to the most powerful position within it?</p>
<p>“I do not wish to stand before you as a victor, though there is no definition that could say I am not one. I do not see elections as a battle to be fought. Instead, I see them as a debate between points of view, all of which must be heard!”</p>
<p>“Instead, I wish to stand before you simply as a man who wants to do what he believes is right for his people.”</p>
<p>The crowd launched into hysteric cheering once again, and the President took a step back and breathed in and out several times before carrying on.</p>
<p>“My friends, we face great danger. Our homes, our very way of life, is under threat. Our reefs are dying! Life bleaching away from the very corals that have protected us and sheltered us for thousands of years. Our islands are flooding! The ocean rises up to claim the sand and bring it back beneath the waves, uncaring as to how many perish in the process. The mortals flood our seas with their garbage and waste, and because of the ICW, we can do nothing! Well, I will not stand by and let our seas be poisoned or wait for our islands to sink.”</p>
<p>More shouting, this time, violent.</p>
<p>“But it is not the fault of all mortals. I will not place blame on the many for the uncaring and selfish acts of the few, as ICW policy mandates I should. Our society remains hidden out of necessity, but that does not mean we cannot defend ourselves! We have magic! We have power! We must use them against those who would dump their oil and their plastics into our homes and wash their hands of it. That is why, my next act as President, as mandated by you, will be to direct the Federal Protection Authority to immediately destroy what the Mortals have taken to calling, “the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.”</p>
<p>Thunderous applause erupted all around. This campaign had been hard-fought. Harder than his last, though nowhere near as complicated as his first. The environmental issues beginning to plague the Pacific were being keenly felt by all those who lived near the surface. Coral bleaching had destroyed kilometres of reef along the Australian coast – the lands known to the Mer as the Alcheri’kira, ‘The Land of the Dreamers’ – and the damage was beginning to spread across the Melanesian kingdoms and Aotearoa as well. Islands across the Samoan, Fijian and Tahitian Kingdoms were witnessing record levels of ocean rising, and the north-western Kingdom of Mariana was reporting the mass death of several schools of fish species. As a result, a new power had risen up while he’d been preoccupied with British terrorists and the subsequent arrival of Earth’s first extra-terrestrial refugees. They called themselves the Rainbow Front.</p>
<p>When James had won his second term, they had been merely an environmental activist group. Well-funded and well-intentioned, but ultimately not powerful enough to affect the political landscape in any significant way. All that had changed after one hundred and thirty-three Merfolk were killed the previous year when a Chinese oil tanker ran aground 50km south of the protective barrier surrounding Alcheringa. The deaths had galvanised the nation, and the Front had gained significant influence and power as a result, much of which had come from James’ own party. The issue had threatened to divide the left-wing vote, leaving an almost clear pathway for James’ biggest opponents to snatch a victory – despite his personal popularity. As such, James had made a deal with the Front. Back him in the election, and he’d make sure their issues were heard (which he’d planned on doing <em>anyway</em>), and he’d give them the Vice-Presidency. His new Vice-President, Miss Pamela Islay, stood to his right. She was a short woman, with green vine tattoos traced across her typical olive-Alcheringan skin, and she was young. Younger than he would have liked in a deputy, but James had picked wisely. She would be fine with his advisors, and himself, to guide her.</p>
<p>“We must adapt to the changes being forced upon us. The world is changing, and we cannot, <em>will not</em> let it ride by us. We will not stick our heads in the sand like the rest of the Wizarding World, or it will be our lives on the line!”</p>
<p>Most of the member states of the ICW did not like President Matson. One doesn’t struggle to imagine why.</p>
<p>The Druids and Mer had always been considered second rate in the magical community, though how that came about had always been confusing to James. The Federated Kingdoms of the Druids and Mer – a collection of twenty-two semi-autonomous kingdoms bound together in a coalition – was one of the oldest wizarding nations in the world. In fact, it was one of the few countries that was completely independent of any mortal government. And yet, they had been the last nation to ratify the Statute of Secrecy – refusing to do so until the Mer were considered ‘beings’ instead of ‘beasts’ under the new International Confederation of Wizards bylaw. They had been considered <em>subhuman,</em> or <em>bestial, </em>by the so-called ‘<em>Pureblood’</em> witches and wizards of Europe. But at the same time, their economy was the fifth strongest in the Magical realm behind the Goblin Nation, the Dwarven territories, the United States and the Magical Caliphate (though if growth in China continued, he supposed they would be in sixth place by the end of the decade).</p>
<p>What the President planned to do now would make them hate him even more.</p>
<p>“The mortals have developed a means of instant communication and information capture called the ‘Internet’. I propose that we must build our own version. I have spoken with our top scientists and theorists, and they already have an idea of how it can be done – using magic, not mortal machinery. We must begin countering the pollution they have pumped into our oceans and skies, regardless of whether we are detected or not. And we must also turn our gaze towards the stars. We know we are not alone. Atlantis and the refugees from Tamaran prove that. We must have a way of defending ourselves against the mortals should our protections fail, and against anyone else out there that seeks to do us harm.”</p>
<p>James knew that there were aliens out there searching for Earth right now, because of what Harry and Ginny had done, and what they continued to do.</p>
<p>When the crowd quietened down once more, he continued.</p>
<p>“For hundreds of years, we have been stagnant. Unchanging. Too focussed on hiding to risk exploring and discovering. Of advancing as a species. I say…”</p>
<p>A crack echoed through the air, barely heard above the President’s address or the cheering of the crowd, but it was there to be noticed by those trained in such things. A dozen men and women in khaki uniforms and feathered hats on the platform all tensed. A Maori woman pulled the President behind her, and a Hawaiian pushed the Vice-President to the ground. The soldiers of the Federal Protection Authority were experts at their jobs, but they could not have known the danger they put their charges in at that moment. To magical people, a sudden ‘cracking’ noise means only one thing. Apparation. To a mortal, it means something drastically different. Protection spells were in the air in an instant, and the spectators began screaming in panic rather than cheer. Hundreds of people burst asunder into clouds of golden dust, using the Druidic method of teleportation – Entanglement – to vanish, the FPA agents among the first.</p>
<p>They brought their charges into the heart of the Tower, and only once the room was secure and they were confident of safety did they allow the President and Vice-President to stand. Miss Islay stood up with shaky breaths, gripping onto the soldier who had rescued her. President Matson slumped to the ground, blood pooling around a hole in his smart shirt.</p>
<p>“MEDICS!”</p>
<p>They laid the President on the flooring and began desperately searching for what possible spell could have hit him, but they could find nothing. For President Matson had not been killed by magic. He had been killed by a sniper bullet, shot from almost 500meters away.</p>
<p>“NO ONE LEAVES THE ISLAND!”</p>
<hr/>
<h2>2 years later. The day of Hermione’s experiment.</h2>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Fortress G4, The Galapagos Shield; Galapagos Islands Province, The Federated Kingdoms of the Druids and Mer.</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 15th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Harry Potter stood on cold black stone, staring eastward out past crenulations at the dark expanse of the Pacific Ocean. It was quiet tonight. No wind, barely a cloud in the sky. Though the light from the torches held in brackets along the obsidian walls weakened his night-vision, he could still see more stars in the sky here than he’d ever been able to in Britain.</p>
<p>Around him stood a group of people representing magical nations from across the world.</p>
<p>Directly beside him stood the Captain-General of the Federal Protection Authority – the largest Magical Military in the World – Lucas Hobbs. He was an intimidating man to be sure. Thick-skinned, heavily muscled, and covered in dozens of tattoos – some traditional, some not. The Samoan man had risen to the position only recently, replacing his predecessor, who had died in the assassination of Federation President James Matson two years ago. The person standing slightly behind him had also been appointed to her position following that horrific day.</p>
<p>President Pamela Islay was a petite woman with green vine shaped tattoos traced across her olive Alcheringan-skin and vibrant red hair. Harry wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of the woman yet. She was commanding to be sure, and unyielding in pursuit of her ideals, which he both admired and felt a kinship with. Nor was it hard to sense the potential she had. However, she was unready for all the responsibility that had been thrust on her shoulders, making mistakes (though not large or catastrophic ones as of yet), that most leaders Harry had known would immediately notice and avoid (including, he begrudgingly admitted, himself). She was not supposed to be President. President Matson, whom Harry was glad to say had been a good friend, had intended to groom the young leader of the Federation’s Environmental movement as a potential successor. She had spirit and a desire to change the world – something most people lacked. But vision could only get one so far when there were wars to fight. All that being said, she was learning quickly, and if she kept up all the effort Harry could tell she was investing by the bags under her eyes and the decreasing rate at which she slipped up, she could be a great leader. One James Matson would be proud of.</p>
<p>To Harry’s left stood American President Josiah Bartlet. The President was in his last year of office, his hair gone grey, and he now carried a cane to help him walk. Secret Service Members – all of them trained wizards given the current climate – stood a short distance away, hands held behind their backs. They quite blatantly carried SHIELD’s new silver metal weapons at their sides. They called them Anti-Wizarding-Railguns – or AWRG-1’s. Wizards had taken to calling them ‘Wargs’ after the ancestral canine creatures. Weapons designed to be impervious to magic by emitting a low-grade electromagnetic resonance that prevented disarmament, transfiguration or any other means of magical manipulation. The bullets they emitted had the same properties – rendering protection spells and magical armour useless. Including the Ancient Armour Harry and the Defenders had used to defeat Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Fortunately, they couldn’t penetrate wards. Harry also imagined they were wearing SHIELD’s new body-armour, which was resistant to most lesser forms of spellfire – though not transfiguration or curses.</p>
<p>It was one of those weapons that had killed James Matson.</p>
<p>Behind them, the new American Secretary of Magic Simon Dodson – whom Harry vehemently did <em>not</em> like – was whispering quietly to the French Minister of Magic Jean-Pierre Vasseur. Both countries had aided the Defenders in their victory against Voldemort, though neither of the two men had actually been involved; coming to power only later. Harry still felt a pang at the absence of a representative from Wakanda, the other country that had played a significant hand in the Dark Lord’s defeat.</p>
<p>Beside and behind them were perhaps six or seven other foreign leaders, the only one who’s name Harry could remember being Catalan President Caterina Bosch – a staunch ally and one of Ginny’s friends. </p>
<p>This type of thing, meeting with Presidents and Ministers was usually Ginny’s job as the Atlantean Head of State. But Jessica – one of Harry and Ginny’s seven-year-old twin daughters – had contracted Dragon-pox, and Ginny refused to leave her side. Harry wanted desperately to be there as well, but this was not a meeting one sent a simple emissary to.</p>
<p>“There,” General Hobbs said in his rough, deep-chested voice. The assembled leaders followed the General’s gaze, staring out at sea. Sure enough, in the distance, Harry spotted a small craft, shaped like a stingray, gliding through the water. It was an old model he thought, from World War Two. It would aid in deniability.</p>
<p>No alarm was raised within the fortress, and so the ship grew closer, before coming to a halt about a hundred metres from the obsidian outer wall. Then, with no warning, two sharp <em>‘booms!’</em> echoed through the air, and two balls of convulsing purple magic shot from cannons on the underside of the ship. They soared through the air, leaving no trail save for an acrid smell, before impacting the walls with a muted ‘<em>thud’.</em> The obsidian shimmered with soft blue light, before returning to normal – the fortress Wards. </p>
<p>Harry glanced at General Hobbs, who nodded slightly. Good. Harry would take it from here.</p>
<p>He jumped over the wall. </p>
<p>A smile splitting his face as the stingray craft fired two more shots, Harry let himself freefall for a few seconds, before disapparating above the water. Reappearing a second later directly above the ship, he snapped his wand into his hand, raising it overhead. He slammed it into the metal, the shaft sinking <em>through</em> the hull and the associated wards. Wizards, Harry found, tended to focus on defending against magic, and not enough against good old-fashioned types of attack.</p>
<p>“Confringo.” The tip of his wand, now buried within the ship, released a blasting curse that tore away the roof in an explosion of light and sound. Harry shot backwards, apparating again to reorientate himself above the hole he’d just made. He dropped inside, and, as he’d imagined, found himself in a space far larger within than out: a large corridor, walls and floor charmed to appear as if made from stone instead of metal. He advanced down the hall as two guards opened a door directly ahead of him. The looks of shock on their faces were priceless. They wore black vests, decorated in gold with the symbol of a sword – point down – surrounded by magical lights. The symbol of the Layqasuyu Imperial Guard. Just as Harry – and the fortress garrison – had expected when they detected the ship heading for Federation waters two days previously. Two quick stunners dropped the men, and Harry continued deeper into the ship. </p>
<p>The charmwork was good, obviously intended to disguise how old the vessel was, and it appeared there were very few passengers – Harry only had to stun three more people as he made his way to the bridge. </p>
<p>Once he did arrive; however, he had a fight on his hands. He didn’t get the chance to fight many people wand to wand anymore. This would be a nice change of pace. He wrenched the locked door open with a simple banishing hex, and then – grinning – he dove into a roll. Five spells soared over his head as Harry completed the manoeuvre, closing his eyes as he rose to a crouch.</p>
<p>“Lumos Maxima!” A bright burst of light emitted from his wand, flooding the room with glare. He heard one-person trip over a chair, and another walk into a desk. The light extinguished, and Harry dove again, opening his eyes and sliding behind a desk for cover as two more spells were sent his way.</p>
<p>“Stupefy!”</p>
<p>“Petrificus Totalus!”</p>
<p>Both impacted the desk, and Harry slid out from the other side, wand drawn. </p>
<p>“Ventus! Fulgur Expulso!” A shockwave of air blasted outwards from Harry’s wand, and the two men lurched from their feet, soaring into the air – directly into the path of the lightning curse. Static electricity danced along their skin and clothes as their bodies spasmed. They hit the wall, and the light on the roof above them exploded in a shower of sparks.</p>
<p>A sharp stinging sensation rippled through Harry’s right forearm, and he jumped in the air, flipping as he did so. Not a second later, a silent stunner soared through the space he’d occupied. Harry bit off a silent spell of his own – a binding spell – striking his opponent and wrapping him in enchanted ropes. Harry dropped back to the ground; wand outstretched.</p>
<p>“Expelliarmus!” A final man – whom Harry assumed was the Captain based on the epilates adorning his shoulders – raised his hands in surrender. His wand ripped away from his grasp, flying across the room. For a brief moment, a tattoo rippled across Harry’s right forearm. Black ink in the shape of a dragon with a red coloured phoenix, wreathed in flame, issuing from its mouth — the Firebrand of the Council of Fire. Harry had been marked with it almost fourteen years ago now. A <em>lifetime</em> ago.</p>
<p>Harry returned his wand to the holster on his wrist and moved towards the captain, who still had his hands over his head. Then he punched the man in the face.</p>
<p>The man groaned in shock as he tripped backwards, falling to his knees. Harry ignored him, raising his hand to the back of his ear, where a transparent disk was embedded in his skin.</p>
<p>“Atlantis, this is Harry, respond.”</p>
<p><em>“Bridge to General. We read you, Harry. How goes the demonstration?” </em>The voice belonged to an old friend.</p>
<p>“About as well as can be expected, Lavender. Care to take over?”</p>
<p><em>“Ready General.” </em>Harry had tried to stop his people from using the old nickname, but those few Defenders Army members who remained in Atlantis, Lavender Brown amongst them, refused to give it up. Harry rolled his eyes, then placed his hand on a large console at the front of the Bridge. A large wheel – like one might expect from a sixteenth-century pirate ship – was affixed to the top, and it was in pride of position in front of the window that dominated the room. Like the rest of the ship, the walls had been charmed to look like stone, as if he were inside a comfortable house, and not a magical warship.</p>
<p>The sleeve of Harry’s robes <em>transformed </em>into a white, lightweight metal substance. It consumed his hand, clothing it in a glove – red piping along the fingertips. Then the white metal leaked out of his fingers and into the steering panel.</p>
<p>Ancient Armour – a relic of the first magic users to inhabit the Earth. They had died out ten thousand years ago, and all that remained of them was their great metropolis – Atlantis – left buried in the ice of Antarctica. Lost. Forgotten. Until Harry and Ginny had found it, reawakening its secrets.</p>
<p>The steering wheel began to move on its own, and the warship jolted back to life. With his other hand, he reached into his robes and drew out a palm-sized sphere of glass. Trapped within it was a cloud of smoke. He threw the sphere up in the air, and it began to levitate on its own. Within a few moments, the smoke cleared, revealing the face of General Hobbs back on the fortress ramparts.</p>
<p>“Ship secure. What do you want me to do with it?”</p>
<p>“I’ll send some men to round up the prisoners and search the place. Then we’ll blow it up,” Hobbs replied. These balls really were a good idea. Much more efficient than Patronus messaging, even if they were clunky and prone to breaking. He supposed Hermione had shaped them like Crystal Balls as a subtle jab at the field of Divination. She’d actually been condemned by the International Organisation of Seers a few years back for her paper on the origins of magic if he recalled. A paper that won her an Order of Merlin – on top of the two she already had. Speaking of which, her latest experiment should be starting sometime soon if he remembered correctly.</p>
<p><em>“Ship’s wards are down General. You’re in the clear.” </em>Lavender’s voice echoed in his ear.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Lav.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Just doing my job.”</em>
</p>
<p>Harry removed his hand, and the white metal transformed back into his black robes. Within moments, a dozen FPA agents had materialised on the deck, appearing from within clouds of golden dust. Entanglement – a druidic art. Harry had never been able to master it. Apparation was far easier.</p>
<p>The other world leaders, with General Hobbs, appeared shortly after, escorted by the Secret Service and the Federal Protection Authority’s Elite Garrison.</p>
<p>“How many times is this now?” the French Minister asked.</p>
<p>“Since the beginning of the year? 13. Since the war began? 274,” Hobbs answered, grabbing the Captain by the throat and shoving him into the floor. He made an odd weeping sound as his head hit charmed metal.</p>
<p>President Pamela, the French Minister, President Bosch of Catalonia, Secretary Dodson of the US, and the other wizarding leaders all flinched. President Bartlet – the only person there without a drop of magical blood – did not. </p>
<p><em>War.</em> It was an ugly word in the magical world. Wars did not happen often between wizards. Historically, their population had been too low to even consider them. They were also tough to hide from muggles – even with the Statute of Secrecy in place. That being said, the number of magical wars fought across the world in the 20th century was <em>double</em> the amount of battles fought in the two centuries prior. It was an unsettling trend. First, it was Grindelwald, then World War II, then Vietnam, the American Magical Revolution, Voldemort’s first rise, the Tibetan Crisis, Voldemort <em>again</em>. Now… now the entire wizarding world was holding its breath. Waiting to see how this current conflict would end. A cold war in name only.</p>
<p>Two years ago, President James Matson of the Federation had been assassinated by a wizard from the South American magical kingdom of Layqasuyu, using a muggle weapon designed by an American intelligence agency.</p>
<p>To say it was a shitstorm, would be the biggest understatement of the century.</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry! Get back to Atlantis NOW!</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Act I, Chapter 3: A Bird of Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Act I, Chapter 3: A Bird of Fire</h1>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">The White House, Washington DC.</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">January 23rd, 1999.</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Ginny stood outside the Oval Office, whistling softly to herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d been here. She’d met President Clinton before he was impeached and removed from office the previous year. Nor was she surprised the new President had wanted to meet her. After all, everyone wanted to meet her these days. In fact, she had a game running with Fred and George. They called it “World-leader Bingo.” Not very original admittedly, but, then again, it didn’t need to be. All she needed now was the President of China, and they owed her a prank on anyone she wanted.</p>
<p>The door opened, and the President’s secretary motioned her inside. Ginny entered alone.</p>
<p>Most world-leaders had entourages. Mary – Ginny’s head of Political Affairs – was working on creating a handpicked version of the Secret Service for her. But it was taking a while to find trustworthy candidates. Ginny thought the whole thing was relatively redundant. No one in their right mind would even think to do anything to her, and anyone with a differing opinion would find themselves sorely corrected when they woke up in her dungeon. Ginny did not consider herself a violent person. But she had two babies to protect now, as well as a fledgling nation to govern. Not to mention, she was technically the leader of an interstellar war, though that was more Harry’s domain than hers.</p>
<p>President Bartlet had blondish brown hair and wore a black suit and tie. He wasn’t elderly, but nor was he young. In fact, he seemed to have achieved a perfect balance between the two, and he projected a sort of… aura… that filled the room. It was something she’d observed in a number of people. Harry being the foremost. But it was also noticeable in people like Professor Dumbledore, Will O’Neill, President Matson and Doctor Strange. It was a confidence, combined with will, power and authority, that made a leader take that extra step and feel… well, Presidential.</p>
<p>“Mr President,” Ginny acknowledged as the President stood up from his desk and crossed the room to her. The Secret Service agents around the room were being very attentive.</p>
<p>“Mrs Potter,” Bartlet replied smoothly, taking her hand and shaking it.</p>
<p>“Clear the room everyone.” To their credit, the secret service didn’t hesitate to follow the President’s order and moved to stand outside the glass portico surrounding the Oval Office. The doors all clicked shut, and they were alone.</p>
<p>“Firstly, I wanted to thank you, both from myself and on behalf of the American people, for what you did for us two years ago.”</p>
<p>Ginny waved the President off. “We didn’t do it for fame or heroism. We did it because we were the only ones who could. If we hadn’t, the world would have ended.”</p>
<p>She shivered involuntarily at the memory.</p>
<p>“Regardless. If even half of what I’ve read is true, you and your husband deserve public holidays named after you.”</p>
<p>Ginny smiled softly, “Well I appreciate the sentiment, Mr President.”</p>
<p>“And your children are well? I understand you only gave birth a few months ago?” Bartlet asked, looking her over. Ginny examined his expression, trying to decide whether he was genuine. The man had three daughters, and by all reports was a family man, but you could never be sure with politicians. </p>
<p>“The twins are very healthy, thank you. Pregnancy is far less painful for witches than muggles as I understand it, and I had the benefits of not only Atlantis’s advanced magic and technology but also my mother – who has seven children’s worth of experience – to help me through.”</p>
<p>The President seemed to like that answer, as he grinned and gestured for Ginny to join him on the couches in the middle of the room. They sat across from one another, and Bartlet stared at her for a moment, before sighing.</p>
<p>“Mrs Potter. I’ve only had this office for the past three days, and in those three days, I’ve learned so much it isn’t funny. I’ve learned government secrets that would have all the worlds reporters frothing at the mouth, I’ve had complex military deployments explained to me, and I’ve had meeting after meeting with cabinet secretaries to outline my agenda for the next few months. And alongside all of that, I’m being briefed on the existence of a secret society of Witches and Wizards that exist all over the globe, and about how you saved the world.”</p>
<p>“I’ve been briefed by my experts, but, well, I would like to hear it from you if you would.” </p>
<p>Ginny was taken aback for a moment. That had not been what she was expecting at all. But then she smiled. It seemed Mary had been right after all. President Bartlet was, genuinely, a man who wanted to do right by his people. A man who honestly cared about right and wrong. And Ginny knew full well that the number of people like that in the world was precious few indeed.</p>
<p>So, she told him a story. She began on a cold Halloween night in 1981, and told the story of how Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, had tried to kill a baby, and how he was defeated by a mother’s love. She narrated how that little boy grew up unloved and uncared for, and how, on his eleventh birthday, he returned to the magical world. She spoke at length of Hogwarts Castle, it’s magic and its mystery. And she told him of a little girl who trusted something she shouldn’t have, and how she was scarred forever because of it. </p>
<p>On she went, telling tales of Basilisks and Phoenixes, of magical tattoos, Dementors, and Ascended Beings, of four friends torn-apart by betrayal and war, of the Home that Lily Potter left behind. She told him of Jessica Jones – the bravest Slytherin to walk those hallowed halls – and of Mathew Murdock – a boy who refused to surrender, despite the whole world shunning him. She wove tapestries and watched as the President listened, enraptured by her every word. The Triwizard Tournament, the night of the Yule Ball, when she and Harry had completed their bond. Then she told him of the Horcruxes, and of Voldemort’s return from the dead. The founding of the Defenders Army came next, and the battle where she herself had fought Voldemort to a standstill in the Ministry of Magic. She held nothing back. Not the cruelty of Umbridge, the horror of Voldemort’s presence, or the radiance of Will and Clarissa O’Neill. </p>
<p>Then her tale began to draw to a close. She explained how she and Harry had gone in search of Atlantis, how they had restored life to the ancient city, and how it had all culminated in a battle in the skies above Hogwarts. Voldemort, dead on the paving stones. The castle, a pile of rubble, and ruin.</p>
<p>When she was finally done, she sat back, and President Bartlet looked at her with such newfound respect that she couldn’t help but smile.</p>
<p>“I want you to know,” he said at length, “that you will always have a friend in the United States government. So long as I am President, the US will always be ready should you need help.”</p>
<p>“The world is vulnerable Mr President,” Ginny told him, “the Sorcerer Supreme is dead, and the Sanctum Sanctorum destroyed by Voldemort. It has been rebuilt it’s true, but much of what Doctor Strange was working on has been lost, and only Professor Dumbledore, who is also dead, might have been wise enough to understand it regardless. We do not know how long the Doctor’s enchantments on the dread Dormammu’s prison will last, especially given the Destroyer’s attempt to destroy our universe very nearly succeeded.”</p>
<p>Now it was Ginny’s turn to sigh.</p>
<p>“It is not only magical threats we must fear either, as I’m sure Director Fury has informed you.” The President nodded gravely.</p>
<p>“Thanks to our discovery of Atlantis, we won’t have to worry about alien invasions like the Captain Marvel Incidentany time soon, and Harry is preparing a team to use the Gateway to explore the galaxy; get a feeling for the climate of things out there.”</p>
<p>“So the Director tells me,” Bartlet said, “though I’ll admit to you that he didn’t seem happy about the fact that he didn’t have any control over it. He takes global security very seriously.”</p>
<p>“As do we, Mr President.” Ginny paused, an idea forming in her mind. Ginny had been unsure exactly how they were going to explore the entirety of Atlantis when so much of the City’s technology was beyond them. It was true Ginny had an instinctive knowledge of <em>how </em>the systems worked, thanks to the Ancient Gene embedded in her DNA as a Pureblood witch, but she didn’t know <em>why </em>they worked. Or how to fix them if they became damaged. Large sections of the outer city had been flooded – both during and prior to Ginny’s rising of the City from within the Antarctic ice – and the machinery in those areas had taken extensive damage. The team of scientists working on the City now – led by Filius Flitwick, the former Charms Professor at Hogwarts – was comprised almost entirely of wizarding scholars. They had about ten muggle scientists – mostly the parents of muggleborn students, or the spouses of witches or wizards who had married muggles – but only one of them actually had extensive training in Physics. The rest of the group was comprised of five British Unspeakables who’d survived Voldemort’s destruction of the British Ministry of Magic, about fifteen French and Catalan Wizarding Scholars who’d supported them against Voldemort, and some of the Ravenclaw House members who’d been members of the Defenders Army. Finally, they had a team of Cursebreakers and Wardbinders on loan from Gringotts (Harry had actually gone to the Great Citadel – the Goblin Capital City hidden deep beneath the Sahara Desert – to speak with the Grand Imperial Magistrix of the Goblin Nation and secure the deal).</p>
<p>Harry was also worried about defending Atlantis should another wizarding nation decide to attack them. Since establishing themselves as an independent Wizarding Kingdom the previous year, two different secret forces – one from the Magical Caliphate of Northern Africa and the Middle East, and one from the Russian Department of Magical Oversight – had tried to breach the city shield. Both had failed, but it did highlight that they needed a defence force of some kind. They had a battalion of soldiers from the Federal Protection Authority stationed at the city as part of their treaty with President Matson, and a contingent of Aurors from France and Catalonia, but together they numbered less than fifty men and women. If there <em>was </em>a military threat to the city – muggle, magical or alien – they would be severely outnumbered. </p>
<p>Maybe, just <em>maybe, </em>she could solve two problems at once.</p>
<p>“But, I am willing to admit that we are a bit over our heads,” Ginny said carefully, studying the President’s face. He kept himself well-controlled, as any good politician would, but Ginny saw a hint of curiosity spark in his eyes. President Josiah Bartlet was a learned man, a Nobel prize-winning Economist as a matter of fact; the chance to gain new knowledge would be a powerful tool in her arsenal.</p>
<p>“The magical world is significantly… <em>backwards</em>, when it comes to our studies of science, both mundane and advanced, and we would be highly appreciative of any help the United States could give us in understanding all the advanced technology and magic inside Atlantis. Also, if Director Fury is as concerned by national security as we are, I see no reason that we can’t coordinate our efforts to protect the Earth against any potential threats that might come our way.”</p>
<p>“I see…” The President said, a smile growing on his face. Bartlet stood up, and Ginny did the same.</p>
<p>“Well Mrs Potter, it certainly has been informative talking to you. I will be sure to think over what you’ve said, and I’m sure we can come up with a plan of some sort that can benefit Atlantis, the United States, and the whole world.”</p>
<p>“Likewise, Mr President. I look forward to speaking with you again.” Ginny shook Bartlet’s hand, then vanished, her body dissipating into golden dust, leaving the President of the United States to chuckle to himself as the Secret Service barged back into the room.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">The Ruins of Hogwarts Castle, Scotland</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 15th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Ginny knelt on the cobblestones, mouth agape, staring in awe and horror at the hole in the air. It was about five meters in length, a giant tear stretching across the blue sky. Like a knife wound in skin. At its edges, white smoke dissipated into the air, and every few seconds, a blur of light – like tiny flashes, a different colour each time – shot out into the world before vanishing.</p>
<p>Around her, research and medical teams from both Atlantis and SHIELD worked caring for the injured or trying to discover precisely what had happened. It was a disaster. A dozen people were missing – Peter, Claire, the Quinjet, all the people on board and a bunch of SHIELD guards, including their leader, James Hewlett. Hermione, Parvati and Padma were inside the triage tent behind her, being tended to by magical and muggle nurses for the severe burns they’d received during the explosion. A team of scientists were making their way into the nuclear reactor, searching for any sign of Dr McCoy or Kitty.</p>
<p>A few feet in front of Ginny, in the centre of all the bustling activity, was a tall African-American man wearing a black trench-coat, eye-patch hiding one of his eyes. The back of his head was scarred dreadfully.</p>
<p>“I don’t want guesses, I need ANSWERS! We need to know what this thing is, and we needed to know it yesterday!”</p>
<p>Another light shot out from the window. It flew down to Fury, taking the shape of a ribbon of blue light, before vanishing.</p>
<p>“And someone figure out what these mother fucking lights are!”</p>
<p>Ginny sighed, then stood upright, ignoring the sight of the destroyed castle beyond, and stalked up to the SHIELD Director.</p>
<p>“Calm down, Director,” she said tersely, “I invited you here. I can eject you. Don’t forget that.”</p>
<p>Fury turned towards her, eyes burning with anger for a fraction of a second. Then he restrained himself, remembering just who he was talking to.</p>
<p>“These people are doing everything they can. Yelling will do nothing.” Fury clenched his teeth, no doubt seeing the logic in her words and not liking it one bit. He was just as anxious about this as she was. The difference between them, Ginny believed, was that she had spent her entire life earning the respect of those around her – because of not only her age but her gender as well. The old prejudices died slow deaths in the Wizarding World – Ginny’s own mother was a testament to that. Fury was far more used to knowing everything and expecting answers when he ordered them. Patience was not a virtue a person in command often had the luxury of cultivating.</p>
<p>“What news from Atlantis?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Shedoesn’t like this… <em>Window</em>. Whatever it is, it scares Her. Far more than I’ve seen anything since the Destroyer tried to obliterate the Universe.” Atlantis was not just a piece of technology. It was <em>alive</em>. It could think in a way, extrapolating new ideas when plans or tasks failed. It often suggested alternate options before Ginny could even think of them, and it was paranoid concerning its own safety. Its mind had evolved in the years since Ginny had first connected herself to the Ancient Database to restore the City. Growing so much that the City had seemingly decided on its own that it preferred the feminine pronoun. Professor Flitwick believed the City was actually feeding off Ginny’s consciousness through the Gemini Rune burnt into the back of her neck. The more time Ginny spent connected to Her, the more She learnt.</p>
<p>The rune on Ginny’s neck – a black ink marking like a tattoo, shaped like the Roman numeral for two – began to hum against her neck, pricking with heat. Speaking of the Gemini Rune…</p>
<p>A shimmering blue portal exploded into being on the far side of the courtyard, and Harry stepped out, followed by a Demelza Robbins and Neville Longbottom, both wearing the Ancient Armour. In its unhidden form, the armour appeared to be made mostly of white plating, with black meshed material around the joints to allow for movement and red piping separating the two. On the shoulder was a black circle, with a symbol in the centre. A white inverted V, with a small circle above the apex. The Home Rune, formerly known as the symbol of the Ancients. Now the sigil of the Witches and Wizards of Atlantis.</p>
<p>Demelza held her position on Harry’s left; petite and curvy, but well-muscled and possessing a fierce gaze. Her hair – which Ginny had always admired and envied – was a mousy brown, with high volume and a faint curl to it. She held a cylindrical silver contraption in her right hand, her wand in her left. Neville stood on Harry’s right. The once pudgy and clumsy boy had grown into a tall man, thick of frame and black of hair. Strapped to his back was a giant double-bladed battle-axe. His father in law had given him that after he’d travelled into the depths of the Pacific Ocean to ask for permission to marry the man’s daughter.</p>
<p>Harry himself looked great – though Ginny supposed she was a bit bias in that regard. He’d done his hair since his return from the Federation, and now wore his trademark red Defenders Cloak over black clothing. He was the only one who still wore the Cloaks – a relic of his mother.</p>
<p>“The girls?” She asked as they approached Ginny and Fury. Jessica – one of Ginny and Harry’s twin daughters – had caught Dragonpox two days ago. The City, incredibly, had very little in the way of curing diseases. Ginny was learning that the Ancients – the builders of Atlantis – had been a very science-driven people, and as such often dismissed smaller essential things like batteries or vaccines in favour of pursuing grand inventions like nanite armour or flying cities. Their health and safety procedures left much to be desired, and their medical knowledge wasn’t much better than modern Earth science. Something she imagined the city’s original inhabitants had probably regretted dramatically as they were being wiped out by the plague.</p>
<p>“Fine. Minerva is taking care of them. We need to focus on this. Gin, Daphne says she’s had a call from the Wakandans,” Harry answered, and Ginny’s stomach <em>lurched</em>. She did not want to think about them right now. Demelza and Neville didn’t take their eyes off Fury.</p>
<p>“T’Chaka wants to know what the fuck that thing is.” He glanced up at the window. “Do <em>we</em> even know what it is?”</p>
<p>Ginny shrugged, and Fury turned towards one of his analysts, who was alternating between staring a tablet and the sky.</p>
<p>“Addams, report on what you have.” The blonde woman – whom Ginny realised with a start she had actually met before – nodded quickly, approaching the group. Yes, Ginny did know this woman. She and Harry had met her when they fled Britain after Voldemort’s attack on the Ministry. She’d worked in the American Embassy. Then it clicked. This must be the spy in Fury’s ranks. She’d known MIB had a muggle spy in Fury’s inner circle, but seeing the woman was another thing entirely.</p>
<p>“Well, according to the atmospheric scans, the event doesn’t actually exist.”</p>
<p>“What?” Harry asked.</p>
<p>“I mean that the atmosphere is recording no response to any unnatural stimuli. No rush of air into or out from the gap, no gravimetric anomalies or time-dilation effects. It’s like the thing isn’t there.”</p>
<p>“That’s good news at least,” Ginny said.</p>
<p>“What is it doing then?” Fury asked, gripping his gun holster. Professor Flitwick stepped up beside the woman, staring at his own tablet.</p>
<p>“It’s spewing out magic,” Flitwick said, not looking up from his graphs, “a concentrated form that I’ve never seen before in all my years of study. The energy has somehow, perhaps by the event itself, been compressed into a gaseous form that’s leaking from that side into ours. It’s incredibly potent, but it doesn’t last long. Within a few seconds of existence on our side, its dissolves back to magic’s natural invisible quantum form.” Fury grunted, as if expecting something like that.</p>
<p>“The window itself,” Addams continued, “appears to be incredibly complex in nature. Based on the data we’re receiving from the other side; we believe it’s actually intersecting several different layers of reality. Kind of like a junction of some kind. A point which, theoretically, you could use to cross between them, though I have no idea <em>how</em> you’d accomplish it.”</p>
<p>“And the lights?” Ginny asked.</p>
<p>Addams and Flitwick looked to one another, then spoke in unison. “We don’t know.”</p>
<p>Harry sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds.</p>
<p>“Can it be closed?” Another light, this time grey and shaped like a tiny storm-cloud, emerged from the window, vanishing into the air.</p>
<p>“The damage is already done.” A cold wind rose up in the air, stirring around them. Ginny’s hair whipped out behind her, and she spun in time to see a figure dressed all in white step out of thin air. Immediately, Neville and Demelza stepped between it and Harry and Ginny as a dozen of Fury’s agents surrounded them.</p>
<p>“Stand down!” Harry and Ginny yelled, the Gemini Rune thumping in sync.</p>
<p><em>Is it… </em>Harry whispered in Ginny’s mind – one of the powers afforded them by the Gemini Rune’s magic.</p>
<p>
  <em>Luna.</em>
</p>
<p>It was Luna. She floated an inch above the ground, toes pointed like a ballerina, and glowed with soft white light, but it was still her. Her hair had turned to white as well, but the dreamy expression on her face and the sparkle in her eyes were exactly the same.</p>
<p>Six years ago, Luna Lovegood had vanished off the face of the Earth. The last person who’d seen her was Danny Rand, the Immortal Iron-Fist. He’d agreed to take her to the heavenly city of Kun Lun. When he’d returned, Luna wasn’t with him. All he’d say was that she was gone. Ascended, to a higher plane of enlightenment. </p>
<p>No one had heard anything from her since. She was, for all intense and purposes, dead. They’d held a funeral.</p>
<p>“Hello Harry. Hello Ginny. Neville, Demelza,” Luna said sweetly. Neville and Demelza both gasped, lowering their weapons in awe.</p>
<p>“Who are you?!” Fury snapped; gun drawn. “Alien? Spirit? Ghost?”</p>
<p>“I am Luna Lovegood, Nicolas Fury. And you should treat me with more respect, I think.” She turned to look up at the window.</p>
<p>“It’s here now. There is no stopping it. I had hoped that, with the Nether and Dragon Forces gone, it would leave the Earth alone. But this cannot go ignored.” Ginny pushed forward into the ring of guards, approaching the misty figure.</p>
<p>
  <em>My gods…</em>
</p>
<p>“Luna.. What’s here?”</p>
<p>“I thought I could do more… but the Accords… I understand it now. Why the other Ascended don’t do more. Why they <em>can’t </em>do more, even if they want to. It’s a matter of balance, and law.” She whispered, barely at the edge of hearing.</p>
<p>Harry stepped beside Ginny and tried to grab Luna’s arm. His hand simply phased through her as if she wasn’t there.</p>
<p>“Luna. <em>What’s </em>here?”</p>
<p>“The Phoenix.”</p>
<p>A <em>screech</em> like the crashing of boulders, like the grinding of metal against metal, tore through the sky. The ground trembled, and the very air vibrated as a flash of red burst into being on the southern horizon.</p>
<p>“Quickly! I cannot help you over-much! Already the other Ascended are coming to investigate. It wants you. It knows of your past, can sense your exposure to its brethren, and can feel your potential.” Luna froze, and her form began to blur. Frantically, she reached out to Ginny, and she desperately tried to reach back.</p>
<p>“Hide where the Forces cannot reach!”</p>
<p>Luna popped out of existence as if she’d never been there at all. Harry grabbed Ginny from behind, and they turned back towards the incoming light.</p>
<p>“What the hell is going on?!” Fury barked. The ground continued to vibrate as the thing drew closer. It wasn’t a light. Not really. It had a physical shape — an enormous creature of flame.</p>
<p>
  <em>A phoenix.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>What did she mean? A place where the forces…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Atlantis!</em>
</p>
<p>Harry’s hand flew to his ear.</p>
<p>“Lavender we need a Gateway now!”</p>
<p>The air around them began to burn as a series of runes appeared, hovering in a circular pattern at the edge of the courtyard. Another screech echoed through the air, in time with the explosion that heralded the blue Gateway portal shimmering into existence.</p>
<p>Harry and Ginny, so attuned to one another now that they didn’t need to speak before they acted, bolted for the portal. No one else had the force of mind to move. The others – witch, wizard and muggle alike – simply stood there, staring in awe as the creature bore down on them. Several people in that courtyard had seen power like that before. <em>Felt it </em>before<em>. </em>It had nearly ended the world.</p>
<p>The only person who followed them was Fury. He chased after the couple, matching their speed perfectly. And as they dove through the shimmering barrier, he was right beside them.</p>
<p>The initial sensation of passing through the wormhole wasn’t that different from a portkey. The jerking motion was there, though it caught your whole body instead of just hooking around your navel. But unlike a portkey, you couldn’t actually see the vortex you fell through. There was a faint impression of blue as you passed through the event horizon of the Gateway and the jerking motion pulled you forward, but the next moment you emerged from the other side, with the exact same momentum you had going in. There was nothing in between. </p>
<p>They burst into the Gate-Room of Atlantis, and Ginny didn’t stop running, praying to all the gods that Luna was right, and the creature only wanted them.</p>
<p>“LOCK IT UP!” Harry screamed.</p>
<p>A transparent energy shield flickered into being over the portal seconds before the rippling water turned red. A crashing <em>‘GONG!’ </em>shook the room as the creature slammed into the shield, and the City trembled under the onslaught. Then the portal shut off, leaving Harry and Ginny standing opposite Nicolas Fury, in the one place she’d sworn he’d never set foot.</p>
<p>“Don’t touch <em>anything</em>. If you do, I kill you. And don’t think I won’t.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Act I, Chapter 4: Jean</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Updated Disclaimer:</h1>
<p>Ghost and Miracle stood on a cliffside, looking out over a city of tall white marble buildings nestled within a valley. They were in the Himalayas. Or at least what passed for the Himalayas on this Earth.</p>
<p>“You sure she’s down there?” Ghost asked, directing the comment to the man kneeling in front of him, a telescope raised to his eye. The man was identical to Ghost in almost every way. Same dark hair and eyes. Same bearing and mannerisms. They even had the same taste in clothes – leather jackets and cargo pants. However, you could instantly tell the two apart. The kneeling man, whom we will call Shade for the sake of simplicity as his assumed name was also Ghost, had an arctic fox clinging to his back. The claws of the small white furred animal clung to the jacket, holding firmly and allowing it to raise its head over the man’s shoulder, providing a commanding view over the valley. Standing beside him was a woman with long blonde hair, streaked with orange. She was shorter than Miracle, but they too had identical faces and identical figures. Perched on her shoulder was an owl with grey and white feathers, of a species neither Ghost nor Miracle knew. This woman too was named Miracle, so we will call her Wonder.</p>
<p>“Our contact is trustworthy. The girl is down there,” the fox said. The fox, whose name was Melindralena – or just Mel – did not like Ghost very much. He thought it was because he did not have a daemon of his own.</p>
<p>“We need to move. If she <em>is</em> down there, she won’t be for long. The Authority will find us soon.” The voice belonged to the third doppelgänger of Ghost standing on the cliff. This one’s name was William O’Neill, and of the three of them, he was by far the most imposing of the three. He had a long scar across his face, and wore a dark cloak of basilisk hide over his shoulders. His Miracle, Clarissa O’Neill, had no highlights in her hair. She was the youngest of the six.</p>
<p>“Between the six of us,” Miracle said, clenching her fist and trying not to stare at her double’s daemon, “we can keep hidden from the Authority long enough…”</p>
<p>“Ha!” Wonder exclaimed, “There is no hiding from the Authority! You come to our end of the Multiverse, beyond your cute little Orrery of Worlds, and start trying to tell me what the Authority can and can’t do? Even Lucifer is scared of coming here.”</p>
<p>Miracle stepped up to her other self, and the owl narrowed his eyes at her.</p>
<p>“I don’t care. I’m going to find my daughter. And I do not care what the Authority does to <em>me</em> or to <em>you</em>. You can stay or you can leave. But I am going down into that city, and I will tear apart the walls of reality to get her back.” Then Miracle and Ghost ran towards the cliff edge and jumped off. And after a moment, their other selves followed after them.</p>
<p>“We don’t own any recognisable franchises! The expansions to the magical world such as Alcheringa, Layqasuyu and the other magical nations were created by us!”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<hr/>

<h1>Act I, Chapter 4: Jean</h1>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Atlantis, the North Atlantic Ocean; 35° 21’28.5 “N 38° 29’53.4 “W.</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Nick Fury stared at the city of Atlantis and, to his eternal shame, couldn’t help his jaw slackening at the sight of the alien city. It was <em>gorgeous</em>. Walls of a turquoise blue-green and a floor of coppery red, the room he found himself in was incredibly grand. Staggered across three levels, Fury was in the centre of the lowest floor, standing on a raised platform before a giant grey metal ring, etched with runic symbols that glowed blue. Spaced equally around the ring were seven triangular chevrons that also glowed. From this side, the portal looked far calmer, like water rippling in a soft breeze instead of a tumultuous whirlpool. In front of him was a wide staircase leading upwards, writing in the Ancient language across the steps. Above the stairs was a giant stained-glass window depicting figures holding wands aloft, and on either side was an open room with a balcony overlooking the Gateway room below. On the right was a control room, with desks, screens and consoles. The left-hand room only had one visible object within. A silver metal and glass chair – almost a throne – sitting dormant and unoccupied.</p>
<p>A small team of SHIELD scientists, led by Drs Richards and Storm, had been working with the Atlantean wizards for six years now as per the deal President Bartlet had signed with Ginny Potter. In exchange for help in understanding and repairing the city, the Atlanteans would share the intelligence they gained on their excursions to other worlds – primarily, weapons technology. Fury was perfectly happy to admit he’d tried to twist the deal in his favour several times. Thanks to Dr Storm, SHIELD had reverse-engineered the technology that created the powerful shield that protected the city. They couldn’t protect anything as large as Atlantis, but they had used it to create their rudimentary anti-magic body armour. It was also thanks to their studies of Atlantis that SHIELD had learned to convert CO2 back into breathable Oxygen without any waste of energy for their bases; how to create workable hard light holographic projections; and, (most importantly to Fury’s mind) how to bypass those suits of magical nanite armour they all wore.</p>
<p>It was all a part of the game he and Ginny Potter played. And she gave as good as she got too. Their deal had no provisions for access to the Stargate – the name Fury’s scientists used for the ancient portal device – nor did it give him any right to demand access to Atlantis’s weaponry, or the magical defences the wizards had put in place themselves. She also took great pleasure in limiting the amount of Alien technology he could get his hands on.</p>
<p>He hated to admit it, but he respected the girl. More than Fury respected most people for sure. She and her husband – whom Fury was slightly less impressed by – genuinely cared about protecting the world, no matter the cost. Furthermore, both Potters had blood on their hands. Fury wouldn’t have trusted them an inch if they didn’t.</p>
<p>But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use this opportunity. There was a reason he hadn’t been allowed into the city himself.</p>
<p>He tried to capture everything about the device he could so he could report back to his scientists. He’d been unable to get even a single person into this room in seven years. <em>Seven years</em> of trying to devise a defence against this city and its portal technology, and this was the first time anyone in SHIELD employ had even seen the device. Fury was a smart man. Smarter than many gave him credit for. With any luck, he would be able to have a sketch artist create a realistic enough drawing of the Stargate and the room it sat in. Maybe then his scientists could come up with a vague idea of how the thing worked. He was just so <em>blind</em> when it came to Atlantis and the wizards who inhabited it. He didn’t even know what <em>powered</em> the place.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, learning more about the Wizards would have to take a back-seat to his current problem. A hole in reality, dozens of missing agents, and a giant magical bird of fire. That… creature. Whatever it had been… it was not something he could fight on his own, and the Avengers Initiative wasn’t ready yet.</p>
<p>A dozen wizards – all in that armour – ran out of side passages, wands drawn. Everyone in the room was staring at him. Good. Let them look.</p>
<p>“Lavender! Status report!” Ginny exclaimed, rushing up the stairs. Harry and Fury followed behind her, and the soldiers stood, confused, in the debarkation room, wands pointed at his back.</p>
<p>“Stand down,” Harry said begrudgingly, and the wizards did as instructed.</p>
<p>“We have the… thing… on the City sensors,” A woman called out, “As soon as you left, it pivoted away from Hogwarts… It’s heading straight for us.”</p>
<p>They reached the top of the staircase, and Ginny and Harry looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. Telepathy. Just <em>one</em> of their unusual abilities. Fury couldn’t help but stare at the tattoo on the back of the girl’s neck. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to know how that <em>worked!</em></p>
<p>Instead, he ground his teeth and scanned the control room. Everyone within was staring at him with thinly veiled hostility. He resisted the urge to smirk, and instead counted as many people as he could recognise. He had read the personnel files on every one of the former ‘Defenders’. Lavender Brown, a thin girl with wavy brown hair, sat at a desk with a holographic globe hovering above it. Eloise Midgen sat beside her, hand hovering over a console shaped like a diamond, with dozens of glass keys across it in a specific formation. He couldn’t see the letters. Dennis Creevey sat at the same station, but he had a map of Atlantis in front of him. <em>Damn,</em> if only he could get a good look at it. SHIELD only had elementary floor plans for the city – the thing was as big as Manhattan – and the few satellite pictures they had were even worse. At a station behind them, slightly raised, sat three more people – Michael Corner, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass. Fury had met both Slytherin girls before. Greengrass acted as a shadow to Atlantis’s political liaison, Mary Breckensfield, and was quite obviously being groomed to take the woman’s place. Fury had been forced to work with her before and would admit she was quite intelligent and discerning for one so young. She almost reminded Fury of himself. Davis was the media director of Atlantis, she ran the city’s news network and monitored the Atlanteans internal and external political images. She was good at her job, but that didn’t mean Fury liked her.</p>
<p>The Potters finally ended their conversation, and they stepped into the Control Room.</p>
<p>“The people on the ground?” Harry asked.</p>
<p>A holographic screen appeared, showing the half-goblin Wizard scientist – Flitwick – Coulson and Maggie.</p>
<p>“Coulson report.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“The thing just vanished, sir. As if it was never here. The Window is still releasing those lights, though the pace has decreased significantly.”</em>
</p>
<p>Another screen materialised, revealing the face of King T’Chaka of Wakanda. Ginny visibly winced at the sight of the king.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Mrs Potter, tell me your researchers have not just torn another hole in the Space-time continuum.”</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>My</em> researchers,” Ginny said tersely, “have done no such thing. Furthermore, I do not see how the matter concerns you, Your Highness. The incident occurred on <em>British</em> soil, and the British Ministry of Magic is allied with the Covenant, <em>not</em> the Alliance. Therefore, you have no jurisdiction or authority in this instance.” Ginny dismissed the king’s transmission before sighing in frustration. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, and she put hers atop his and smiled.</p>
<p>Deciding that now would be a good time to strike, he took a step forward, uncaring of the stares he received.</p>
<p>“Talk Potters. Who was that woman? How do you know that bird thing?”</p>
<p>Ginny opened her mouth to answer but was cut off by an alarm erupting through invisible loud-speakers.</p>
<p>
  <em>“ALERT! ALERT! COSMIC THREAT DETECTED!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Damn it!</em>
</p>
<p>“Shit!” Dennis exclaimed. Fury’s gaze locked onto his screen, which showed an image of Atlantis and the surrounding ocean. A red blip was rocketing straight for them.</p>
<p>“Raise the shield,” Ginny commanded, and Lavender immediately slapped a large silver button on her console. Fury followed Ginny’s eyes to the nearest window and watched in fascination as a transparent dome of energy enveloped the tower.</p>
<p>“500km, impact in 12 seconds!” Colin called. Ginny moved to Astoria’s screen and looked over the girl’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Gin… the output… it’s the exact same as the…”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“Five seconds!”</p>
<p>All eyes spun towards the large window that overlooked the exterior balcony. The red light shot towards the city, then <em>collided </em>with the shield with a <em>‘BANG!’</em> like thunder.</p>
<p>The sky bled to red as the force surrounded the transparent dome on all sides. Alarms blared, sparks burst from Colin’s console, but the shield held.</p>
<p>“The shield is under incredible strain,” Lavender said eventually, “and the Dragon Force Reactor is fluctuating, but otherwise…”</p>
<p>Ginny swallowed, then walked out onto the balcony, Harry trailing behind her. Fury followed them.</p>
<p>Atlantis… it truly was as massive as the photos depicted. <em>And</em> as incredible. A metropolis of silver towers shaped like a six-armed snowflake. It was so alien, yet so beautiful… it was hard to not admire it. The city shield – which formed a dome shape around the city – was covered in dancing flames of red and gold, creating intricate patterns in the shadows they cast over the silver towers. And in those flames, he could see a face. Two eyes of solid gold, staring directly back at them.</p>
<p>Though he didn’t show it. Didn’t even flinch. Internally, he was shiting himself.</p>
<p>“Everything in the Multiverse – all matter, all energy, all magic – comes from the Source. The <em>True</em> Source,” Ginny whispered as they stared out at the face in the flames. “What it actually <em>is?</em> Well, we have no idea. To be honest, I don’t think we’re meant to understand it. It’s just beyond us. But the point is, the Creator used the Source to bring our Multiverse into existence.”</p>
<p>“Creator?” Fury asked, raising an eyebrow. Of all people, he hadn’t thought she would be superstitious, but looking into those eyes, seeing the burning flames, though he couldn’t feel or hear them, and standing atop the tower looking out over something from a fairy-tale, he could understand.</p>
<p>“It’s known by more names than you or I could possibly comprehend. I’ve heard it called the Monitor, God, the Presence, the One Above All, the Divine Firmament, Chaos, and a whole assortment of pronouns. And it very much exists. People I trust have felt that power, and all of them have said something looked back at them when they did.” Fury suppressed a shiver.</p>
<p>“Let’s say I believe that,” he said, “what does <em>‘the Creator’</em> have to do with… that?”</p>
<p>Daphne, Lavender, and several of the other wizards stepped out onto the balcony with them.</p>
<p>“The shield has stabilised. Just like it did against the Nether Force,” Lavender whispered.</p>
<p>Ginny continued as if Lavender hadn’t spoken. “The Source has no purpose other than to exist. It’s a fuel tank with no engine. So, to ensure the Multiverse functions correctly, there are powers called Enigma Forces – the Fundamental Forces of the Cosmos. Think of them as reservoirs of cosmic energy, each with a specific purpose and its own rules to follow.”</p>
<p>“One of them is called the Phoenix Force,” Harry said grimly, “the force of cosmic rebirth.”</p>
<p>The flames receded in an instant, revealing the image of a giant firebird. Then, just as Coulson described, it vanished as if it were never there. The sky returned to blue, and all he could see was a calm ocean.</p>
<p>“The Phoenix Force is responsible for bringing about the death of universes at their appropriate time. It manifests as a giant cosmic firebird and draws power from destruction to be used in creation. Every universe has its own echo of the Phoenix Force, and when it’s time for that universe to die, the Phoenix destroys it, then uses all the power created by the death to trigger a new Big-Bang. Will and Clarissa O’Neill – former hosts of the Dragon Force – witnessed the avatar of another universe’s Phoenix destroy an entire solar system without breaking a sweat.” Fury swallowed hard.</p>
<p>“So, this thing is going to destroy the world?”</p>
<p>“Not on its own,” Harry said, arms folded, “As we learned with Voldemort – who used the Nether Force to try and take over the world – Enigma Forces like the Phoenix can’t act on their own. They have to bind themselves to an avatar – or host – to function. The Phoenix is going to seek out someone here on Earth to bond too, and Luna thinks that someone is us. We’re safe in here. The Forces can’t attack each other directly, and the shield is powered by the Dragon Force.”</p>
<p>“So long as we stay here, it can’t get us,” Ginny finished.</p>
<p>Fury took a deep breath. This just got worse and worse by the second. “How do we find it?”</p>
<p>Ginny shivered.</p>
<p>“We’re just going to have to wait for the destruction to begin, then pray to the gods we can help before it’s too late.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Ealing, West London, The United Kingdom </span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 15th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“Grandpa Erik?” Jean called, sticking her head out of her bedroom, “Have you seen my football shoes?”</p>
<p>“They’re in the Laundry Jean.”</p>
<p>“Thanks!” Jean closed the door and grabbed her jersey off the dresser. Striped blue and white, Jean was proud of her position as the centre forward for the Ealing High School Fourth Form Football team. She’d spent all year practising so she could move from the B team to the A team, and she’d done it. She’d won her place in trials, and now she’d prove to all the other kids that she deserved the spot, that she hadn’t just gotten it because her Grandpa Charles was a teacher.</p>
<p>She pulled the jersey over her head and checked her hair in the cracked mirror.</p>
<p>Grandpa Erik and Grandpa Charles apartment in Ealing was nothing special. Two bedrooms (it was really one bedroom, with the study converted into Jean’s bedroom), one bathroom, a kitchen and lounge, with a tiny laundry. It had a grand total of one window, kept clear at all times so Grandpa Charles could put his wheelchair in front of it. The furniture was old, the leather couch cracked in several places, and three beer coasters had been propped under one of the chair legs. But to Jean, it was just home.</p>
<p>Satisfied her auburn hair was sufficiently tied back, she opened the door once more, grabbed a pair of socks, and moved down the cramped hallway to the laundry. Sure enough, her shoes were sitting beside the metal basin. She grabbed them and made her way towards the front of the house.</p>
<p>Grandpa Charles was reading a book in his chair by the window, making notes on a clipboard.</p>
<p>Jean tied to sneak past him to get to the door, but as she gripped the handle, Grandpa Charles looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. With his bald head, kind eyes and love of tweed jackets, not to mention his paralysis, Jean’s friends thought Professor Charles Xavier looked about as threatening as a kitten.</p>
<p>They hadn’t been in the same room as him when the ICW split two years ago.</p>
<p>The usually calm, thoughtful history professor had gone berserk. A good half dozen things had been thrown across the room, one even putting a hole in the window. He had been so furious at the nations that had spurned the idea of moving forward, of evolving, that Jean almost thought she might have sensed a bit of magic in him after all.</p>
<p>Both of Jean’s grandparents were muggles, though that didn’t mean they didn’t have just as much to teach her as her parents might have. More so perhaps, given that Jean had no magical talent either. She was a squib, and her parents had gone and gotten themselves killed when the terrorist Voldemort had been reborn ten years ago. Jean had been left on her own. Her magical relatives hadn’t wanted her. All she’d had was her mother’s muggle father: Jean’s Grandpa Erik.</p>
<p>Grandpa Erik… Jean couldn’t imagine how hard it had been for him. He had survived the Holocaust, an orphaned child, only for his daughter to die at the hands of another terrorist touting so-called blood-purity over forty years later. Maybe that was part of the reason he’d taken in a little squib, Jean Grey.</p>
<p>“You be good young lady,” Grandpa Charles said as Jean winced.</p>
<p>“I always am,” Jean shot back, rolling her eyes.</p>
<p>“I know you are,” Grandpa Charles said, “That doesn’t stop me from worrying about you.”</p>
<p>“I’m turning 15 in a few months, Grandpa,” Jean reminded him. “I can protect myself.”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t stop us from worrying,” Grandpa Erik said, appearing in the door to the hallway with a mug of coffee, wearing that horrid purple and red dressing gown he loved. Jean had actually tried to burn the thing when she was ten. It still had a burn mark on the hem. Not one of her finest moments.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know. I promise I’ll be good.”</p>
<p>“Good girl,” Grandpa Charles said, and Jean bolted out the door.</p>
<p>As usual, she arrived at the field fifteen minutes early. Most of her friends thought the idea of early morning Saturday training to be ludicrous. It was cold, windy, and more likely than not to rain on you, regardless of the season. It was, after all, London. But she enjoyed the crisp air – it helped her concentration.</p>
<p>She dropped her bag beside the long and squat brick building that served as the school’s locker room and sat down on the yellowing grass to begin her stretches. The coach arrived soon after, nodding in her direction before entering the office at the end of the building. After ten minutes, she started running laps of the oval, watching as the rest of the team started trickling in.</p>
<p>Jean… was not very well-liked by most of her team-mates. Actually, Jean wasn’t very well-liked by most people, period. Most girls avoided her because of her grandfather – she supposed it was because they didn’t want to risk her dobbing them in for secrets they might accidentally slip. Jean was just fine with that. She didn’t have time for their bitching and complaining anyway. The boys, on the other hand… they tended to fall into two camps. The sporty boys didn’t like her because she was one of only two girls in the A level football team. Supposedly, she was taking a ‘spot’ meant for them. Well, she was better than them, so maybe if they tried harder, they could have their ‘spot’ back. The other group, the nerdy types – oh, sorry, the ‘academic’ boys, pha! – tended to idolise her because; a) she had no fear what-so-ever of so-called ‘jocks’, and b) she wore sports shorts.</p>
<p>She didn’t need people to like her. She had her grandpas, she had earned her place on this team, and she had a few friends she could count on. That was enough.</p>
<p>The coach emerged from his office and set the new arrivals to running, and Jean slowed down to allow Hope and Bobby to catch up to her.</p>
<p>“Excited for tomorrow?” Hope asked, elbowing her in the side.</p>
<p>“Duh. First game of the season, who wouldn’t be excited?”</p>
<p>“True. You think we can win?” Hope asked.</p>
<p>Jean shrugged, looking around the oval at the rest of the team.</p>
<p>“Can we win? Sure. Whether we <em>will </em>or not depends on if Trent can pull his head out of his ass.”</p>
<p>Bobby snorted. “That’s true. He’s a striker and a half, but if he doesn’t put aside his ego and pass when he can’t score, we’ll be screwed.” Jean opened her mouth to say more, but Hope elbowed her again, and pointed to the fence line.</p>
<p>“Your stalker’s back.”</p>
<p>Jean groaned. Sitting on the metal temp seats was a boy with shaggy brown hair with a textbook. He was not so subtly watching their every move.</p>
<p>“What’s it going to take to get him to leave me alone?” She hissed, pulling her eyes away from one Scott Summers and focussing on taking one step after the other.</p>
<p>“I think it’s kind of cute,” Hope said, giggling.</p>
<p>“It’s creepy,” Bobby said, shaking his head, “at least most guys are subtle when they stalk a girl.”</p>
<p>“No, they aren’t,” Hope and Jean said in unison. “You just think you are.” Bobby laughed.</p>
<p>“That sounds about right.”</p>
<p>The coach blew his whistle, and they turned away from the stands and began running back to the locker rooms. Halfway across, an ear-shattering <em>screech </em>ripped through the air, and Jean, Bobby and Hope all ground to a halt, hands flying to their ears. The sound died away, and they looked to the sky, searching for some clue as to the origin of the terrible scream.</p>
<p>“Probably some big-shot grinding his tires,” Hope said, shaking her head. “Come on.” She turned away, but Jean’s gaze was locked on something to the west.</p>
<p>“Um… guys… is it just me, or are there two suns?” She pointed to the west, where sure enough, a red glow was visible against the stark blue of the sky. And it was growing larger by the second.</p>
<p>“Is that a fire?” Bobby asked.</p>
<p>“There’s no smoke,” Hope said. Jean stepped in front of her friends and placed a hand over her eyes to shield them.</p>
<p>“Whatever it is, it’s coming closer.”</p>
<p>Another horrific screech echoed through the air as the light shot towards them, and as it came, Jean realised it wasn’t a light at all. It had some sort of shape… like…</p>
<p>“Is it a nuke?”</p>
<p>“It’s a bird.”</p>
<p>A tingling sensation ran up Jean’s back, a sensation she only ever felt when she went to Diagon Alley or was in the presence of someone using magic. <em>Oh, shit.</em></p>
<p>“Move!”</p>
<p>It was a creature. A bird wreathed in flame. And it was heading straight for them.</p>
<p>She shoved Bobby and Hope aside, then dove the other way. The air around them turned from brisk to burning in seconds, and as she hit the grass, the creature hit them.</p>
<p>It swallowed her, blocking out the sky and sweeping her off the ground. She screamed at the blistering heat, at the smell of pure ash that flooded her nose. The grass vanished, and Jean was pulled up into a storm of red and purple magic, surging and writhing amongst itself like water in a turbine. The screeching reverberated all around her, blocking out any other sound. All she could see was the storm. And she was caught, flying and falling in its grasp.</p>
<p>Magic. It had to be magic. But why? She was a <em>squib. </em>Without a drop of magic in her veins. There were still hundreds of witches and wizards in Britain. Why was this creature here? Why not Diagon Alley? Or somewhere else with more magic?</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Because You are here.’</em>
</p>
<p>Jean screamed in utter terror as she was pulled into the storm-wall. Tentacles of flaming red magic lanced towards her, grabbing her arms and legs and pulling her into the fire.</p>
<p>It swallowed her, and her body was consumed in an agony she couldn’t explain. It was as if her body were burning from outside and in at the same time. She closed her eyes, desperately trying to ignore the screeching, but that only let her concentrate on the pain.</p>
<p>The last thing she remembered before passing out was falling into a void of pure white.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Announcement</p>
<p>Hey everybody! So sorry this chapter is late, but, we’ve been really busy over the last month, and we haven’t had a lot of time to dedicate to any of our Fanfictions. I mean, there’s been Hamilton to sing, Covid to avoid, Lockdown to depress, surprise Taylor Swift albums to binge, emergency surgeries to prepare for, and hangovers to struggle through.<br/>Oh, and one other thing;</p>
<p>WE HAVE A PUBLISHER!!!!</p>
<p>*fireworks explode!!!! *trumpets proclaim our awesomeness!!!! *sirens call out in praise!!!! *fans screaming our names!!!!!<br/>*cough, cough. Uhhh sorry. 😐 But seriously, we have secured a publisher for our first original novel for a pretty decent advance as well. So go us! Now, the final draft of our first book - which we’re working on closely with our editor, because we have an editor now (*eeeeek!!!!!) - is due in September and after that we’re going to be busy organising other related things, as well as University starting back up once more and Ghost's mother going in for surgery. So we’ve decided to go on a temporary hiatus of sorts until everything calms down a bit. We’ll still update, but posts will be irregular and will occur more when we have the time or a brief bit of un-restrainable imagination to leak out. Lost Daughter still has about three chapters in the tank, so we’ll post those bi-weekly, and Blessing has one chapter to go before we hit the end of act one and go on a planned break anyway (as we did between Acts with Gemini Curse). We’ve only got first draft versions of the rest of the Okaran Civil War, and a couple of scattered sections written for Crisis, so that will take longer to get back up and running.</p>
<p>Thanks so much guys, and sorry for the inconvenience,<br/>Ghost and Miracle.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Act I, Chapter 5: Cataclysm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Updated Disclaimer:</h1><p><em>“We’ve got a location from the contact,”</em> Clarissa called through the coms, <em>“Meet at the rendezvous point. Thanks for the distraction guys. We’re in the clear.”</em></p><p>Miracle vaulted over a toppled lamp post and rolled along the ground before ducking behind a wall. She held out her right hand, and started counting heartbeats as she raised her left wrist to her mouth.</p><p>“Ghost, Will, let’s get the hell out of here!”</p><p><em>“I’ve got angels on my tail!”</em> Ghost exclaimed, rapid breathing echoing across the channel.</p><p><em>“I see you,” </em>Will answered.</p><p>Miracle’s count reached ten, and an enormous sword of silvery metal condensed from mist and dropped into her hand. It was light as a feather, yet sharper than any weapon she’d ever held before. It was something new they’d discovered a little while back, and so far, the mysterious ‘Shardblades’ were proving a very valuable find indeed.</p><p>She peeked around the corner, and watched as Will jumped off the side of a skyscraper.</p><p>“Yeeeha!!!!!”</p><p>He pulled a bazooka from a pocket universe, held it to his shoulder, and fired. Ghost ran across the road and dove through a window. Three figures comprised of golden dust – one of the angels native to this end of the universe, entirely unrelated to the angels Miracle knew - chased after him.</p><p>The shot from Will’s bazooka slammed into them, detonating a wall of electric blue energy out like a shockwave. The three angels screamed, then exploded into non-existence.</p><p>Ghost poked his head out of the building.</p><p>“That, is one really impressive gun.”</p><p>Will landed on the ground, grinning.</p><p>“It’s an anti-matter canon. Excellent for blowing up beings comprised entirely of elementary particles.”</p><p>The ground began to tremble, and a deep roar ripped through the sky.</p><p><em>“He’s found us!” </em>Wonder, Miracle’s local doppelgänger screamed into the coms. She, Shade and Clarissa were on the other side of the city, making use of this rather destructive diversion.</p><p>“Well duh,” a new, chipper feminine voice said.</p><p>“Oh god,” Ghost muttered, “not her. Please, anyone but her.”</p><p>The wall beside them <em>ripped</em> open like a page being torn, and a woman in a pink and white costume stepped out. Her hair was short-cropped blonde, the tips died pink, and she had a backpack slung over her back shaped like a blue shark. Oh, and held under her arm was a pig, dressed in an identical costume.</p><p>“How did you miss that? Of <em>course</em> you were going to piss of the Authority. Narrative Causality literally states it. There’s an overpowered god that could show up at any time to defeat you in seconds? Of course he’s going to show up the second before you escape.” Then she turned towards the audience, seeing through Miracle as if she weren’t there.</p><p>“Seriously. You’d think these guys would be smarter. Seeing how they’re writing this disclaimer right now. Hi everybody! My name is Gwen Poole, and I’m in a fanfic now! Oh, and Ghost and Miracle don’t own any recognisable franchises! Including me!”</p><p>Miracle groaned internally.</p><p>“Gwen, please, for the love of…” Two eyes opened in the sky.</p><p>
  <em>“YOU.”</em>
</p><p>“Maybe chew me out later?” Gwen suggested. The trio of world-hoppers looked to one another, then nodded.</p><p>“Okay.” Gwen snapped her fingers, the ground vanished from under them, and they all fell into the white void of imagination itself.</p><hr/><h1>Act I, Chapter 5: Cataclysm</h1><hr/><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">The White House, Washington DC.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">March 4th, 2004</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Minutes after President Matson’s Assassination.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It was midnight in America, and President Bartlet was sitting at the Resolute Desk signing a thank-you note to the King of Denmark when the end of the Wizarding World was set into motion. The King had invited Bartlet to his daughter’s wedding as a courtesy. He wasn’t actually expected to go. He couldn’t help thinking of that poor girl. Weddings were supposed to be gorgeous, personal affairs, not international galas for the rich, famous and empowered.</p><p>He signed his name, put down the pen, and handed the paper to his personal aid, an African American man in his early twenties called Charlie Young.</p><p>“Is that it?” he begged.</p><p>“Yes sir,” Charlie replied from his seat beside the desk, not even bothering to hide his amusement.</p><p>Bartlet let out a long sigh and stood up, stretching his back.</p><p>“About damn time. I’m going to the residence.”</p><p>“Good night sir, see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”</p><p>Bartlet froze on his way to the portico door.</p><p>“What time?”</p><p>“You have an intelligence briefing with the Joint-Chiefs at 6am. Should I set your wake up for five?”</p><p>Jed groaned.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“If it makes you feel any better sir, <em>you</em> might have to be up at five, but<em> I</em> have to be here to wake <em>you</em> up on time. So, I’ll be lucky if I get more than three hours,” Charlie reminded him.</p><p>Jed pondered that for a moment.</p><p>“Good. You deserve it.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>He was two steps from freedom when the doors slammed open with a dozen synchronised crashes.</p><p>The Secret Service poured into the Oval Office. Two of them grabbed Jed by the arms and pulled him towards the centre of the room, into a circle of other agents. Two others grabbed Charlie and ushered him into the ring as well. Five more agents started drawing the curtains, while three drew their weapons, standing guard on each door.</p><p>Something had happened.</p><p>“Oval’s secure. Bamboo shoot at the ready,” one of the men said into his wrist.</p><p>The code for getting him on the move as soon as possible; he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.</p><p>The door to Leo’s office swung open, and it was only the Chief of Staff’s panicked face that stopped him from being shot instantly.</p><p>“Leo! What’s happened?!”</p><p>“There’s been an attack,” Leo said as the Secret Service opened a path for him into the circle of bodies and closed the door behind. A second later, the entrance to the outer office burst open, and Ron Butterfield – the Head of the Secret Service – and Agent Phil Coulson – current SHIELD attaché – ran into the room. Ron immediately moved to the side of one of his men, while Coulson was pulled into the circle. He’d drawn a silver-plated weapon. One of the new Anti-Magic Railguns. They weren’t supposed to be ready yet.</p><p>“Mr President, exactly three minutes ago President James Matson of the Federated Kingdoms was shot and killed in Alcheringa.” Jed’s heart skipped a beat.</p><p>“Oh God. How? Who?”</p><p>“We don’t know. But we just received an urgent message from MIB,” Coulson said, breath coming in gasps. “The FPA have the shooter in custody. Mr President. The gun was SHIELD issue.”</p><p>“We’re clear; move out now!” Ron called, and as a wave of bodies, the Secret Service ushered the President, Leo, Charlie and Coulson towards the closest exit.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Three days later…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Jed stood atop a balcony in the City of Khandaq, Capital of the Magical Caliphate of the Middle East and North Africa, overlooking a desert city.</p><p>The Magical Caliphate, he’d been briefed, was one of the oldest magical communities in the world, dating its founding back to the rise of Islam in the first millennium CE. It had transformed over time as a result of changes in the human side, but its borders had been relatively stable. Most of Saharan Africa, with the western frontier at the Carthusian Empire and the Atlantic, and the eastern reaches ending harshly with the Magical Kingdom of Persia and the Kurdish Magical Nation. The southern border was relatively arbitrary. Any Islamic Wizards in the region considered themselves subject to the Caliphate, those of other faiths mostly governed themselves. The exceptions, of course, were Nigeria, Ethiopia, and Wakanda, which all had proper Magical Governments. The further south in Africa you went, the fewer Wizards there were because of something called the Axis Magicka. It served as Earth’s ‘magical’ pole, and in much the same way as the magnetic pole, had a positive and negative end. The negative end in Angola absorbed ambient magic from the environment, and the positive end north of Hawaii ejected it.</p><p>Khandaq was an enormous city; the single only wizarding city in the country, and the only one in the Middle East. The buildings were almost all single-story, clustered together and built from limestone or rock. To Jed’s love of history, he couldn’t help but imagine that this was what Alexandria, or Babylon, or the Jerusalem of old might have looked like.</p><p>The heart of the city, where Bartlet now stood, was a perfectly preserved Pyramid, which served as the seat of the Sultan’s government.</p><p>Situated at intervals around the city’s perimeter were enormous runestones buried in the sands, each one the size of a bus. Coulson had explained to him that the stones were built out of a material called Malleeniam, which could only be mined by the Dwarves in Australia. The export of the mineral was the Federation’s primary source of wealth. The stones created an incredibly powerful magical ward that shielded the city from all prying eyes, stopped ‘muggles’ from entering on purpose or accidentally, and, as per a recent upgrade, we’re now wholly satellite proof.</p><p>“Mr President? Director Fury and Ginny Potter are here to see you,” Charlie said from the door of their apartments.</p><p>“Send them in.” He turned away from the balcony, eyes darting over the rooms he’d been given. Even if he’d only be in the city for a few hours. They were lavish indeed. With incredibly expensive camel-hide couches, intricate Turkish rugs, a diamond chandelier that almost touched the floor, and shelves upon shelves of exquisite pottery from ages long past. The image was ruined by the Secret Service – each member a Wizard today – and MIB, who stood shoulder to shoulder lining every wall. Every single one of them – men and women alike – were armed to the teeth. Assault weapons, battle robes, magical grenades… you name it, these people had it. Several of them he’d been surprised to learn, had fought beside Harry and Ginny in the Battle of Hogwarts – both as Agents, and Ilvermorny students who’d gone on to become Agents.</p><p>The door swung open, and Ginny herself entered the room, deep in discussion with Director Fury. Agent Coulson, the new Secretary of Magic Simon Dodson, Agent J of MIB, two of Ginny’s magical guards, and an entire troop of SHIELD Agents followed silently behind them. Fury, as always, wore his black trenchcoat, but Ginny and her guards all blatantly wore their white, black and red magical armour. Armour he’d never seen in person before.</p><p>“I swear Fury,” Ginny was saying, her expression dark, “If I find out you used stolen Atlantean technology to build those weapons, I’ll kill you myself.”</p><p>Fury snorted. “Your people check my scientists every time they enter the City and every time they leave it, Potter. Full body scans and inspections using both the City’s technology <em>and </em>magic. I wish I <em>could</em> steal something from your fucking City.”</p><p>Bartlet cleared his throat, and Fury and Ginny broke off their argument. Fury stood to attention, and Bartlet waved him off, before taking Ginny’s offered hand.</p><p>“Mrs Potter.”</p><p>“Mr President.”</p><p>“Any news?”</p><p>“Harry’s still on the ground in Alcheringa with Shuri, Hermione and the FPA.” She paused for a second, cocking her head to the side, and Jed realised with a start that she must be talking to her husband on the other side of the world. Through the rune on her neck in real-time. Incredible.</p><p>“He thinks he has a lead on the man’s American supplier, and he’s going to use the Gateway to transition to the Triskelion and meet Agent Henshaw’s investigation team.”</p><p>“We don’t have anything new since identifying the shooter as a member of the Layqasuyu alt-right movement,” Fury stated, looking very sour indeed at not having the first word, “I trust Henshaw Mr President. He’ll find whoever sold our equipment to this man.”</p><p>“See that he does Director. Ginny, how’s Miss Isley?”</p><p>Ginny sighed, running a hand through her hair and sitting down on one of the couches. Bartlet followed suit, but Fury remained standing.</p><p>“Shaken. Panicked. Terrified. And angry. Very angry. I can’t blame her. She was supposed to be groomed to take over after Matson left; not become a war-time President within days. But she didn’t get where she is by being soft. She’s a headstrong woman, and she knows what she’s doing. She hasn’t let me see her speech, and I can imagine why. She’s going to piss off a lot of old men in that auditorium.”</p><p>President Bartlet, Ginny, President Isley, and all the magical world’s most influential leaders had gathered here in Khandaq for an emergency summit of the International Confederation of Wizards. The second such event in ten years. An unprecedented occasion. As the leader of the American Wizarding Nation, he was entitled to witness the proceedings, but because he wasn’t a Wizard, he had no right to speak. He would need to talk through the Secretary, who would be reading precisely what Bartlet told him to read. Whoever said red-tape wasn’t ridiculous?</p><p>As if summoned by his thoughts, Charlie – who was taking the discovery of a secret society of Witches and Wizards remarkably well all things considered – stepped into the room once more.</p><p>“Mr President, Mrs Potter; the assembly is being called.”</p><p>Jed locked eyes with Ginny. She was so young. Not much older than Jed’s youngest daughter Zoe. But here she was, the leader of a nation, a war hero, and the person with the most powerful weapon in the world. And Jed would bet the farm that weapon was currently pointed directly at Solitude, the Capital of Layqasuyu.</p><p>Ginny took a breath, then steeled her expression into one of calm control, and the pair stood up in sync. He held his hand out to the woman, and she gave it a firm shake.</p><p>“Whatever happens down there,” Bartlet said, “Know that you’ll have the support of the United States. I trust you to make the right call Mrs Potter.”</p><p>“Thank you, Mr President.”</p><p>Then, together, they walked out of the room and into the hallway beyond.</p><hr/><p>The first thing Jean felt upon waking, was the heat. It was a burning, scorching oppression that lay dense across her entire body like a blanket soaked in boiling water. It actually took her several minutes, at least, to get used enough to the thick and burnt air before she could even summon the will to pull her face out of the dirt.</p><p>For dirt she was lying in, wet and soft.</p><p>Groaning, she placed her palms on the ground and pushed herself into a seating position. She wiped over her face, and only then did she open her eyes.</p><p>She was certainly not in England any longer.</p><p>The sun - golden and yellow - not a single cloud to obscure it, beamed down on her skin like an orb of fire, trying to sear itself into her pale complexion.</p><p>
  <em>‘Fear not the heat of any fire, child. You are a Phoenix now.’</em>
</p><p>Jean shivered uncontrollably as the rasping, husky voice echoed around her. She was sitting in a patch of dirt, surrounded by tall trees with enormous and luscious green fronds sticking out in all directions. The roots too, were massive, winding all around her, with dozens of off-shoots. Trees like these, she had seen them only in pictures or heard of them in stories. Vines draped between them, tying trunks and branches, and overhead, the green fronds formed a thick canopy. Everywhere except where Jean sat. They seemed to have created a perfect circle around the hollow she’d been dumped in.</p><p>“Hello? Is anyone there?!” She called, but the only answer she received was the twittering of birds and the buzzing of cicadas. At least, she thought they were cicadas. Did they even live in jungles?</p><p>On hesitant legs, she rose to her feet, marvelling at the sheer diversity of the foliage around her. Only then did she realise that her surroundings were not the only part of her that had changed.</p><p>Her arms, which should have been lanky and thin, seemed perfectly proportioned to her body now. While certainly not bulging like a man’s, her biceps were clearly defined, as were her thigh muscles and calves. The old scar from when she’d accidentally rode her bike into a drain when she was seven was gone. In fact, all her blemishes were gone, and her skin had become the kind of silken smooth only ever seen in airbrushed commercials, or on models. Her hair had lengthened down past her shoulders, and while it had always had volume – which she’d been particularly proud of – it now had an almost perfect curl to it. Finally, her chest. For one thing, she had abs. A perfectly formed six-pack. She had been lean before but… <em>wow</em>. Her breasts had seemingly ballooned as well. Only… they weren’t some sort of unnatural enlargement one saw in comic books or in augmented photographs, where a woman’s bosom was frequently larger than the rib-cage supposed to support it. These new breasts she’d apparently grown were exquisite globes perfectly matched to her body.</p><p>Oh, and she was naked. In a jungle. And she’d been sucker-punched by a giant magical fire-bird?</p><p>“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!!”</p><p>This time, the voice answered her.</p><p>
  <em>‘Rebirth, child. You burnt to death, and rose from the ashes.’</em>
</p><p>Death?</p><p>A vibrant heat blossomed across her body, a fever of bizarre and intoxicating pleasure. Radiance, even. Her skin began to smoulder, smoke billowing off her entire body. Ribbons of light, like liquid fire, licked beneath her skin, and clothes started forming around her by magic.</p><p>Red cloth seemed to grow over her body – of what material she didn’t know, but it clung to her skin with an adhesiveness that carried no uncomfortableness – forming into the shape of a sleek bodysuit. She started floating off the ground, screaming in fright and disturbing several nearby birds. Golden boots built around her feet, stretching up to her ankles, and a golden sash encircled her waist, ends draping down the curve of her leg. The gloves too that appeared around her hands were gold in colour. Finally, a phoenix emblem flared across her chest, gleaming and radiating red energy.</p><p>She was dropped unceremoniously back to the dirt.</p><p>What the hell had happened to her?</p><p>She tried yelling at the voice. Screaming at it. Begging it. It didn’t answer. But Jean was a smart girl, and the stories of witches and wizards were full of tales of people being possessed. She had always wanted magic. Wanted to be more than a squib. Now she had it. Whatever this… this thing inside her was, it had given her something she wanted. It would not have chosen her by accident. It would want something in return.</p><p>She just needed to know what that something was.</p><p>But she could do nothing sitting in this hollow. So, she picked a direction and started walking.</p><p>It only took her a few minutes walking to emerge from the trees on the side of a lake.</p><p>Realising instantly how thirsty she was, she ran out of the trees and down a beach of small stones and pebbles, falling to her knees by the waterside. Immediately, as if reacting simply to her presence, steam began to curl off the lake surface.</p><p>She didn’t care.</p><p>She cupped the water in her hands and drank from it greedily. If the water was hot, she didn’t notice, not given the fire within. Nothing could compare to that. Not even the sun shining down upon the world.</p><p>Her thirst quenched, she found herself staring at the lake as the water stopped rippling. Staring at her reflection. Unbelieving, she reached up and poked her cheek. The reflection did the same.</p><p>
  <em>I… I’m gorgeous.</em>
</p><p>It was still her. She had the same cheekbones, the same chin and button nose. But the pimples that clustered around the crease of her nose, that she usually spent at least fifteen minutes hiding with foundation each morning, were gone. Her lips, which had always been slightly asymmetrical, were now perfectly pouty and possessed a natural shine of red that should only be possible with lipstick. Her eyes… they were solid gold. Not a single fleck of the green they once were. But the thing she fixed on the most, was that she looked like she was at least five years older than she should be.</p><p>“What did you do to me?” She breathed, not really expecting an answer.</p><p><em>‘We burned away your imperfections, Jean,’</em> the voice answered, like a breath on the wind that sent shivers down her spine. <em>‘Is this not what you have always wished you could be?’</em></p><p>She couldn’t deny it. She <em>had </em>wished to be gorgeous, to be beautiful and liked. To not be the person the boys hated because she was better than them, or the person the girls scorned because she was an aberration. What teenage girl <em>didn’t</em> wish to fit in? To feel like she was wanted, to be perfect?</p><p>She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, staring at this new her, feeling like an imposter in her own skin. But she did know what snapped her out of it. That would be the face that appeared under the water.</p><p>She eeked, jumping backwards and scooting up the beach. Only then did she look out across the lake.</p><p>A city clung to the far side of the lake, tiered not unlike a pyramid, but different, as each level was not equal in size or shape. An enormous mountain stood behind the city – alone for miles. Waterfalls cascaded between the standards, and the buildings she could see all had golden roofs.</p><p>Jean realised at once where she was.</p><p>Solitude, the hidden magical valley of the Inca. Capital of the Layqasuyu Empire.</p><p>She was in the heart of enemy territory.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Harlem, New York City, the United States</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 15th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>Luke dropped the last box on the reception desk and grinned. This was it. They were finally going to do this.</p><p>The shopfront in New York City they’d purchased was not large. It was in Harlem, so at least it wasn’t as tiny, or as expensive, as something on the other side of Manhattan, but it had still cost them a pretty penny. Good thing one of Luke’s business partners was loaded.</p><p>“Luke! Get your ass out here!” Danny yelled, and Luke huffed to himself. Of course, the white-boy rich-kid couldn’t even hang a sign himself. Guy could slay a two-thousand-year-old magical dragon and punch Voldemort in the face. But hanging a sign? That was beyond him.</p><p>Luke rolled his eyes and started walking towards the door. The store was well lit, looking towards the western horizon so they could always see the sunset. That had been non-negotiable. Sunsets were incredibly important to Luke and Danny both.</p><p>He stepped out of the door, letting it click closed behind him, and caught sight of Kamala thanking the driver of the moving van.</p><p>“Luke!”</p><p>Luke turned towards the shopfront and frowned. Danny was standing on a ladder, tilting the rectangular sign with its stylised purple lettering on white.</p><p>“A little to the left!” he called, and Danny obliged. The truck engine puttered to life, and Kamala strolled over to them, hands in the pocket of her hoody and a smile to match Luke and Danny’s on her face.</p><p>They weren’t exactly the most typical of partners. A second-generation Pakistani-American half-blood witch, the son of an American billionaire who also happened to be a ninja with a glowing fist, and a black man with giant’s blood who’d grown up amongst gangs and guns. But they had fought against evil incarnate, together. In the aftermath of Hogwarts’ destruction, Jessica’s death, and Matt’s vanishing off the face of the Earth, Danny and Luke had spent a great deal of time with Miles Morales, Kitty Pryde and Kamala Khan of Ilvermorny School. They were all quite similar, and they’d become fast friends. They’d kept close since then, and two months ago, with Miles still at Columbia University, and Kitty working with Hank McCoy, they’d asked Kamala – who’d just graduated with a degree in forensic analysis – if she wanted to help Danny and Luke start their own PI business to investigate human, magical and superhuman crimes. She’d jumped on board eagerly.</p><p>The trio had spent a long time trying to decide what to call their business. For a long time, they’d been partial to ‘Heroes for Hire’, but it had seemed too on the nose. The Champions had also been a choice, but too gaudy. They had decided on just using their names when Danny had realised the perfect name.</p><p>“Excellent,” Kamala said, placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder. Danny climbed down the ladder and stepped back beside them.</p><p>“Alias Investigations, open for business.”</p><p>They stood there on the street, looking up at the sign and the sun glancing off the boxes stacked high inside. Luke loved the work they’d been doing with Harry and Ginny in Atlantis. He’d seen so many incredible things, saved thousands of lives on dozens of other worlds. But this… this was all them. He could make as much of a difference here as he could in Atlantis. He and Danny and Kamala were still more than willing to jump whenever the Potters called, but they’d been part of the Defenders circle, then the Atlantean circle for so long Luke had almost forgotten who he was outside Harry and Ginny. He and Danny, they needed to find themselves, establish who they were again. This was how.</p><p>“This is gonna be awesome,” Danny said, rubbing his hands together.</p><p>
  <em>*veep, *veep, *veep.</em>
</p><p>Luke frowned, pulling out his phone, flipping it open and holding it to his ear.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p><em>“Luke?”</em> It was Ginny’s voice, but it wasn’t as optimistic or enthusiastic as it usually was.</p><p>“Heya Gin, what’s up?” He frowned and glanced to Danny and Kamala, who both looked at him in confusion.</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry. I know you’re starting up your business today. We had a surprise party planned and everything but… Luke, there’s been an incident. Hermione’s experiment backfired, and she’s been wounded pretty bad. Claire and Peter and a dozen other people are missing, and Kitty and Dr McCoy are buried underneath several hundred feet of magic-proof rock. But the biggest thing is; she’s accidentally released the Phoenix Force on Earth.”</em>
</p><p>“Oh fuck,” Luke whispered, stomach sinking.</p><p>
  <em>“SHIELD’s on my ass, I’ve got Fury standing in the middle of the Bridge, and Harry and I can’t risk leaving Atlantis. Apparently, the bloody bird wants us.”</em>
</p><p>Luke took several deep breaths, putting a hand to his forehead to wipe the sweat that had just beaded there.</p><p>“What do you need?”</p><p>
  <em>“I need you and Danny to go to Kun Lun and find everything you can about how to stop this thing. Luke… hurry. I’ve already got the corpse of a teenage girl in London. It looks like the Phoenix tried to take her as a host and failed.”</em>
</p><p>Luke swallowed.</p><p>“We’ll get on it right away.”</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you.”</em>
</p><p>She hung up the phone, and Luke took a deep breath, before looking to his friends, who were both very concerned now.</p><p>“How fast can you get us to Kun Lun?” Luke asked. A flash of panic flared behind the young-man’s eyes. It was gone in a second. Replaced with steely determination.</p><p>“Five hours. You got some cold-weather gear?”</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">The Great Pyramid of Khandaq, the Magical Caliphate of North Africa and the Middle East</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">March 5th, 2004</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Man, this is a big building.</em>
</p><p>Ginny slipped through the door to the alcove set aside for the Atlantis Delegation and took her seat between Daphne and Mary, overlooking the enormous auditorium where the ICW was preparing to meet. Tracey stood to one side with Astoria, Fred, George and Bill. Her brothers had insisted on coming. To ‘protect her’. Usually, she would have told them to bugger off, but with the girls… It wasn’t worth risking herself or her city, or her daughters to argue with them.</p><p>
  <em>What building?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Triskelion. Place is huge.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anything?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m on my way to meet with the Head of Research and Development right now. One Dr McKay. Henshaw is leading us, and he won’t let me, Neville or Demelza out of his sight. We have a veritable army of SHIELD Agents around us, and the Carter sisters are obviously shadowing us, which means there are probably two more tags following our every move.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hewlett or Barton most likely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Probably both.</em>
</p><p>“Order! Order!” Gaeric Thansarge – the Supreme Mugwump – yelled, voice echoing around the chamber thanks to the sonorous charm. “The International Confederation of Wizards is now in session! The chair recognises the Vice President of the Federated Kingdoms of the Druids and Mer.”</p><p>Ginny didn’t like Thansarge one inch. He was a vile misogynistic asshole; but he was well-liked in his country, Bulgaria, and had been elected fairly after Dumbledore was removed, so there was little she could do about it.</p><p>A few places away from the Atlantean box, Pamela stood up to her lectern. She looked exquisite. Her vibrant wine-red hair was intricately braided in the pattern used by the Mer for mourning, and she wore an elegant wrap made of two separate interweaving fabrics of white and black. Her make-up was perfect, her face like chiselled stone. She was surrounded on all sides by the FPA. They hadn’t wanted her to come to the meeting at all, but she’d refused.</p><p>“Pardon Supreme Mugwump, but it’s President, not Vice President.” According to Federation law, the Vice-President immediately took over the President’s duties should he die, and was bound to fulfil what remained of the Presidents term. Then they would need to campaign for re-election again.</p><p>“I come before you, esteemed dignitaries and leaders of the magical world, the distraught leader of a nation in both mourning and anger.”</p><p>
  <em>Has she started yet?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, hush!</em>
</p><p>“Our President is dead; murdered by a mortal weapon, used by a foreigner. And my people demand answers. I demand answers. The Americans are cooperating fully with our investigation, but we haven’t heard so much as a statement from the Layqasuyu. Our ancient enemies. On behalf of the Druids and Mer, I call upon the King of Layqasuyu to answer for the crimes of his citizens, here before this body, right now. If he refuses, I would advise his Majesty to return to Solitude post-haste, for the warships of the Federation will be soon to follow.”</p><p>Hushed whispers broke out across the chamber as everyone looked across the room to the Layqasuyu delegation.</p><p>His Majesty Iago Allemandro rose to his feet, a look of righteous fury on his face.</p><p>“You dare threaten me, girl?”</p><p>Pamela gripped the lectern.</p><p>“I am the President of the most powerful magical nation south of the equator; to threaten you is not only my right but my responsibility.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh damn.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>She quickly sent Harry her memory of the words.</p><p>
  <em>Wow, that is good. Why have I never think to use that?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Probably because most of your speeches were written beforehand because you’re a lousy public speaker?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Right. That was it.</em>
</p><p>“Then it is my right to answer with a threat of my own!” the King snapped.</p><p>“For years we have sat idly by as the Federation has brought us closer and closer to ruin. On dozens of islands across the pacific, the Statute of Secrecy is a sham! Ignored at best, non-functional at worst. The merfolk are lax in hiding themselves, and interbreeding between the magical and non-magical is rampant! Signing unauthorised treaties with <em>muggle</em> nations without consultation or permission. Now, you plan to intervene in the muggle world, risking the exposure of us all! We will not allow it.”</p><p>“You want answers? I will give you this one. I ordered the death of your President; and I commanded it done with muggle weaponry. You say we shouldn’t fear them? Now you have proof of why we should.”</p><p>“The change you so desperately want is a disease run rampant in your nation of half-breeds. It is an abomination that could kill us all. And we will not stand by. And neither will this body. Send your warships against us half-breeds, and we will see how you powerful you truly are.”</p><p>The chamber erupted in shouts and calls, but Ginny couldn’t take her eyes off Pamela. Her mask had shattered, and she was practically shaking with rage. She turned away from the screaming and spoke to the General beside her. She had to talk louder than she otherwise would have, given the noise, so Ginny could just barely hear her.</p><p>“Move the fleet to the Galapagos Shield. I want our borders impenetrable by nightfall.”</p><p>“Immediately, Madame President.” Came the reply, and the General vanished in a swirl of golden dust.</p><p>“Order! Order!”</p><p>“His Majesty is right! We cannot risk potential exposure. Only through hiding can we survive,” the Sultan exclaimed, his voice booming through the chamber.</p><p>“Muggle technology continues to evolve, how do you plan to deal with that? Eventually, they will find us,” the French Minister for Magic retorted.</p><p>“Muggle technology? Pathetic. It will never be a threat.”</p><p>“The Mer have a right to campaign for their own survival. They are on the frontlines of this fight!”</p><p>“You can’t stop change, only by guiding it can we survive. We’re stagnate; if we stay that way, the No-Majs will move past us.”</p><p>“Our way of life is just that, <em>ours</em>. I will not let something curated over hundreds of years to be destroyed in minutes by a nation across the ocean.”</p><p>“We should just destroy the muggles now before they have the chance to become a threat!”</p><p>The arguing went on and on, to the point where Ginny lost the ability to tell where each comment was coming from. The Supreme Mugwump kept calling for order, but no one was listening.</p><p>
  <em>Ginny, I have something.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, please give me some good news.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Opposite. These weapons were definitely made using specs taken from the City. This Dr McKay has never been to Atlantis, but he seems to know what he’s talking about. I don’t understand most of what he’s saying, but Shuri does, and she’s translating for me. These ‘anti-magic’ railguns? They’ll bypass the Ancient Armour.</em>
</p><p>Ginny swallowed, clenching a fist. She was going to kill Fury.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t think it was him. Gin… I think it might have been one of our people.</em>
</p><p>“I do not think pursuing the betterment of the Wizarding race is a bad thing.” a voice called through the chamber, piercing through the fog settling on Ginny’s mind, “However, it is our isolation that has kept us safe for the past three hundred years. Our histories speak plainly of the horrors and persecutions our ancestors faced. We cannot be so naïve as to think they will not resume if we are discovered. The muggles have always wanted that which they cannot have, and they will kill to get it. Isolation is our shield, to give it up would be folly.”</p><p>The speaker was King T’Chaka.</p><p>“Your Highness, forgive me,” Pamela said, her tone laced with confusion to hide her anger, “But a shield is just that. A shield. And shields can only do so much before they are battered aside. To believe that ignoring the outside world will protect is a delusion we cannot afford. My people are on the frontlines. It is our islands that are sinking, our reefs being poisoned by the mortals and their man-made poisons. If the humans marched into Wakanda and started pouring oil into your farms and destroying your homes, can you honestly say you wouldn’t take a stand?”</p><p>The chamber silenced, turning towards the King. The Wakandans usually stayed out of ICW debates; they kept to themselves and were on par with the Layqasuyu in terms of secrecy. But they were an advanced people, unafraid of change or development. It was that spirit that had led King T’Chaka to help the Defenders against Voldemort. Ginny was proud to call the King’s children – Shuri and T’Challa – her friends.</p><p>“Then it would be a matter for Wakanda to deal with alone. I do not have the right to threaten the dissolution of our ways on all magical people, and neither do you.”</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>“Here, here!”</p><p>“Here here!”</p><p>“Aye he’s right!”</p><p>Pamela closed her eyes, face taking on a look of serenity that must be at total odds with the anger within her. When she opened them again, Ginny could see nothing of the young woman she truly was. All she saw was the President of the Federation.</p><p>
  <em>Harry, are there Wakandan guards around Shuri right now?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yeah…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Get away from them.</em>
</p><p>“If that is your thinking, your Highness, then I respect it. But I cannot accept it for my people. I was elected to save our country from the greatest threat it’s ever known. And I swear that I will do it. My parents died with their lungs flooded by oil and black death by the mortal machines. The same machines poisoning my home. I do not intend to destroy the Statute of Secrecy. But I will protect my people and my home, no matter the price, just as your people would expect of their King.”</p><p>Her gaze hardened to steel, and she turned her eyes to the King of Layqasuyu.</p><p>“It is clear to me that this body has become a sham of what it was originally intended to be – a forum of debate and protection for witches and wizards across the world. For too long the ICW looked down on the Druids, the Mer, the Dwarves, Goblins, and all the peoples it sees as somehow sub-human. If the ICW will offer no solution to the deaths of Alcheringans, no help for the end of <em>our</em> livelihoods, then I see no reason for the Federation to continue supporting it.”</p><p>
  <em>Get back to Atlantis right now. Raise the city shield.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>NOW!!!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On it.</em>
</p><p>“Any nation who wishes to join me is welcome too, but this is the last session of the ICW where the Federated Kingdoms of the Druids and Mer will deign to take part until our grievances are heard.”</p><p>The chamber erupted in screams and shouts, but President Islay listened to none of them. She turned on her heel, and vanished into golden dust, her guards following her until the Federation alcove was entirely empty.</p><p>“This is not good,” Daphne whispered.</p><p>“Yep,” Ginny agreed, “Watch me make it even worse.”</p><p>She stepped up to her lectern and used the sonorous charm to make herself heard.</p><p>“This is the second time this body has refused to help a magical nation in need in my lifetime,” Ginny said, drawing attention to her, “And I am only 23 years old, so I doubt such a trend is going to stop any time soon. Until such a time that it does, and I start feeling proud to call myself a witch again, Atlantis will also be removing itself from ICW membership. I will seek, in its place, to establish a new covenant of like-minded nations, who are unafraid to see justice done, and help their fellow wizards.”</p><p>She locked eyes with T’Chaka. He was looking at her with what could only be described as disappointment.</p><p>Then came the last straw. The stone that broke the camel’s back as it were. President Bartlet pushed the Secretary of Magic out of the way and took a mechanical microphone handed to him by his aid, Charlie.</p><p>“I came here today as a guest, honoured to witness a gathering of such powerful and formidable peoples. Surely, I thought, these people, many of whom were twice my own age, who had seen things I could never comprehend, would have a wisdom I lacked. An understanding of the world that I could learn from to better my own knowledge.</p><p>“I confess myself disappointed. The world is changing Witches and Wizards. It’s true. We have weapons that can hurt you now, just as you have weapons that can hurt us. Your precious Statute of Secrecy is already failing, you just refuse to see it, clinging to this false belief that closing your eyes will stop the bullet aimed at your heart. And even if by some miracle you dodge it. There will be another. And another. Until eventually, you will be left wondering how we beat you when you started out the stronger. I choose to align myself and my people – magical and non-magical alike – with those I can respect. Right now, the ICW does not meet such a requirement.”</p><p>Bartlet turned towards Ginny and nodded his head towards her.</p><p>“Mrs Potter, I would be glad to help you construct a covenant of nations built not on fear, but on respect and friendship.” He stepped away from the lectern, and the MIB agents immediately grabbed him and activated a portkey, whisking the President of the United States away.</p><p>Ginny gestured to her entourage, and they too retreated.</p><p>Behind her, men and women called out condemnations and praise alike, and soon the popping of apparation filled the air.</p><p> </p><h1>The End of Act I</h1><hr/>
<hr/><h1>Authors Notes</h1><p>I feel bad about this, but it’s important for us to keep you all informed. My mother’s surgery did not go well, so the impending hiatus will most likely be longer than we expected. Miracle and I are taking care of her, and she will recover, but we don’t know how long it will take. We’ll keep posting as we can, but we have little time for writing at the moment, so we can’t set out any sort of reliable timeline. </p><p>We’re really sorry, but family comes first.</p><p>Love, Ghost and Miracle.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Next time on Blessing of the Phoenix…</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Jean Grey is stranded in Solitude, the hidden capital city of Layqasuyu, beyond the aid of Harry and Ginny. It will take all her willpower to master the Phoenix Force and find a way home, but the Phoenix has a motive of its own, and Jean may be unable to stop it. Meanwhile, Danny Rand, Kamala Khan and Luke Cage journey to Kun Lun in a desperate search for a way to defeat the Phoenix, and the fate of Mathew Murdock is finally revealed.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Interludes I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Interludes:</h1>
<hr/>
<h2>Hannah</h2>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">May 17th, 2006</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Hannah Abbot’s feet had barely touched the ground, and she was already grinning like a kid in a candy store.</p>
<p>“I’ll never get used to those things,” Cedric muttered, pulling himself upright from where their portkey had deposited him on his ass.</p>
<p>“You just have to put y’ ur knees into it, Cedric,” Hagrid exclaimed, whole body vibrating with barely contained energy. He was wearing an enormous backpack and carried a massive pole over his shoulder.</p>
<p>The trio had arrived on a rickety wooden platform currently suspended three-thousand metres above the Italian countryside looking towards the Alps. Or, rather, what was now being dug <em>out</em> of the alps. Dozens of cranes and other floating structures were hovering around a broken mountainside, and on the ground below about a dozen giant rune-stones had been buried half deep in the earth. They formed a perfect circle around one particular peak and exuded iotas of magic. As much as Hogwarts once had in Hannah’s fondest memories.</p>
<p>“Hannah, Hagrid! Good, you’re here!” Bill Weasley exclaimed, hurrying over to them with a gleeful expression etched into his face.</p>
<p>“You’re father, Charlie, Snarkback and Gárin are already on the landing below. You got everything, Hagrid?” the Cursebreaker asked.</p>
<p>“Everyth’in I could think off Bill. Is it a dragon, do you think?”</p>
<p>Bill shrugged.</p>
<p>“We have absolutely no idea!”</p>
<p>If it was possible, Hannah’s smile grew even louder.</p>
<p>The platform started to move, floating closer to the mountain top, and Hannah got a better view of the ruins lining the broken peak.</p>
<p>Two entire levels – separated from one another by thick white walls – were now visible protruding out from the rock. Another five levels were still entirely buried, but the archaeologists had focussed on exposing the upper layers of the ruins first. Their goal was the Citadel, and – if it was still intact – the great Tower of Ecthelion.</p>
<p>The wooden platform touched down gently on the top tier of the city, an enormous pier of sorts that protruded out of the mountain face. The debris of what appeared to have once been a fountain dominated the space, but the object that had Hannah literally geeking out was the thick trunked white tree planted in the earth beside it. Despite being underground for thousands, perhaps <em>millions</em> of years, the tree still had white gold flowers growing from its branches. It was, undoubtedly, one of the most incredible things she’d ever seen.</p>
<p>And she’d been there when Voldemort was blown out of existence, so that was saying something.</p>
<p>A few paces beyond the tree, staring up at a giant heavy-looking door that reminded her of the one before the Hogwarts Great Hall, was her father and two separate teams. One was a group of Goblins all dressed in some sort of hybrid between miners clothing and chainmail. The second team were a group of dwarves, armed to the proverbial teeth with assorted Warhammers and axes, all of them covered in Ancient Runes. The leaders of the two groups, Snapback of the Gringotts Goblins and Gárin of the Dwarves of Kata Tjuta, were arguing with one another, weapons bared.</p>
<p>“If I see a single goblin hand touching the ancient relics of the House of Elendil of Andúnië I will ensure not a single one of you leaves the Hall of Kings alive!!!” Gárin fumed, hammer clenched in a death grip.</p>
<p>“Ha!” Snaptooth snorted. “You would try, <em>Dwarf</em>, but my warriors would crush your pathetic…”</p>
<p>“<em>Bizaric Kobalus!” </em>Gárin snarled, voice slipping into a harsh sounding tongue Hannah could only assume was Khuzdul.<em> “Khazâd ai-mênu!!!!”</em></p>
<p>Hannah winced. That phrase she knew. Dwarves and Goblins in the same place… never a good idea.</p>
<p>“Alright, that’s enough!!!” Her father yelled, brandishing his wand and casting a cannonball spell. He spotted them approaching, and gave her a wave and a smile. </p>
<p>As if sensing them, something crashed into the doors, jolting them on hinges that should have rusted centuries ago. A blood-curdling roar followed, and Hannah started shivering with excitement, forming her ancient armour around her. </p>
<p>Her father slapped Bill on the back, and a few seconds later, Fleur Weasley emerged from one of the nearby buildings with Betsy Braddock, Charlie Weasley and several other Cursebreakers and exotic animal handlers. </p>
<p>Charlie and Hagrid hugged one another, and his team members all introduced themselves before everything was ready.</p>
<p>The Cursebreakers – Bill on one side, Fleur on the other, and Betsy in the middle flanked on either side by the Goblin and Dwarf expedition leaders – assembled in a half-circle around the door. Then, <em>steles </em>in one hand and wands in the other, they began to chant in… yes, that was ancient Sindarin for sure. Hannah was practically bouncing on her feet by this point, and her father looked just as excited. Hagrid readied his poll – which, upon closer inspection, had several runes engraved along the haft like buttons – and Cedric drew his two wands and shifted into a ready stance befitting his status as combat specialist.</p>
<p>It took almost an hour before anything happened, but, as quickly as they’d begun, the wizards all cut off their chanting as one, and the doors blazed with white light. The two sides snapped free of the hinges and magics holding them to the stone and fell inwards, crashing to the stone floor with twin echoing clangs. </p>
<p>“Oh crap…” Hagrid muttered.</p>
<p>In the darkness of the Hall of Kings, two golden eyes looked out at them from within a lion’s face and mane. Only, two enormous horns grew out its head, and the creature’s body was covered in scales, not fur. Powerful legs, wrapped in shaggy hair and ending in hooves bigger than Hannah’s head, held the monster off the ground, and it’s tale… the tale was lined with giant razor-sharp spikes and ended in a wicked triangular barb.</p>
<p>“Chimera.”</p>
<p>The monster raised its head towards the sky and screeched out in a harsh voice for all the world to hear. Instantly, what had been blue sky not a moment ago, was covered by storm clouds of the darkest grey. Then the beast turned its gaze on the assembled wizards and opened jowls filled with rows upon rows of crystalline teeth.</p>
<p>“SCATTER!!!!!!!!”</p>
<p>Seconds later, the landing was flooded by torrents of flames all burning a violent florescent blue.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<h2>Peter</h2>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">May 17th, 2006</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Meanwhile, on Earth 84…</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay, let’s do this one last time…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>My name is Peter Parker, I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for ten years, I’ve been the one and only Spider-Man. But I wasn’t always. My best friend, Gwen Stacy was bitten too, and we fought crime together with our other friend, Mary Jane.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m pretty sure you know the rest. We saved the city a couple of times, fought some magical terrorists… and Gwen… died. Because I was too arrogant for my own good.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Since then, I’ve saved the city a couple more times on my own, MJ stopped talking to me, I graduated from college, and got a job. Then my friend Hermione Granger asked for my help to finish a project Gwen started before she died.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“We blew a hole in the space-time continuum, and I got sucked into the vacuum, and spat out in New York City. Only, it wasn’t my New York.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Now, I’m working with a group of Spider-Men and Women from across the Multiverse to reactivate the Particle-Collider that brought us together and go home. There’s hobo me, 1920’s cop me, teenage anime-girl me (no, I’m not kidding), a version of me that’s an anthropomorphic pig (and you thought the anime-girl was a joke), and… and Gwen. She’s ten years younger, but it’s her alright. A Gwen from another world where I died instead of her. It should have been me here too. Oh, and there’s this newb called Miles. He’s alright.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You should probably go and watch the movie…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em><span class="u">Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse</span> is available where-ever you like to stream movies.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter flipped over a troop of goons lining the walkway beneath him, wand in hand.</p>
<p>“Reducto!” The orange curse shot free from his wand, slamming into the metal gangway and detonating. He disapparated as gunshots littered the air, reappearing a few metres away and going into free-fall. The metal walkway, and all the goons on it, were blown into the abyss as the explosion ripped through the air, and Peter launched a web at the closest wall.</p>
<p>The seven spiders were inside Kingpin’s Super-Collider, an enormous cylindrical underground chamber about the size of a football stadium, lined with white chrome panelling in all directions. At either end, two metallic cannons were affixed to the wall, pointed directly at one another.</p>
<p>Peter swung around towards a signal tower built into the side of the collider, catching sight of Gwen… <em>NO! Not-Gwen. She’s not your Gwen. </em></p>
<p>This alternate-universe incarnation of his friend was on another level. She’d only had spider-powers for two years, less than everyone save the newbie Miles, but she had a mastery of swinging and acrobatics none of them could match. She was like a ballerina who’d made the sky itself her stage. It was… humbling and magnificent. <em>My Gwen would have loved you.</em></p>
<p>He glitched. His magic vanished, he lost hold of his webbing, and his whole body spasmed in agony. He screamed as his body tried to tear itself apart, falling down down down into the machine, and the gunfire.</p>
<p>A small arm grabbed him around the waist as his body reconstituted itself, then they slammed into the wall. Peter grabbed the chrome before he could slip and shook his head to clear it. And his eyes settled on Gwen.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” he groaned as the pain faded away. They couldn’t stay here much longer.</p>
<p>“No problem,” Gwen said, scanning the collider for the others. Noir and Peni were fighting Scorpion on one of the overhead gangways. Ham was nowhere to be seen. “You’d do it for me.”</p>
<p>“I tried,” he whispered to himself. He should have realised Gwen, with spider-senses of her own, would have heard it. She turned to him and pulled up her mask, revealing the face of his best friend. Identical to how he remembered her in all save the eye-piercing. And the shaved side. It was a good look for her.</p>
<p>“Wiz… Peter… I lost my best friend too. I was too scared, too frightened of my powers. He… he tried to help me, and I failed him. But… I couldn’t be the Spider-Woman I am today without him. When I swing, I do it for him. And every life I save, I know he’d be proud of me. If your Gwen was anything like me… she’d want the same thing for you.”</p>
<p>Peter swallowed and watched as she flipped away.</p>
<p>What would Gwen want for him? He’d never stopped to consider it before.</p>
<p>She would want him to live his life.</p>
<p>To be happy.</p>
<p>Could he do that? Could he sleep at night without being haunted by his best friend’s face?</p>
<p>He looked up to the Collider roof just in time to see Miles, Hobo Peter and Gwen take control of the collider stream. The beam in the centre of the room flared with electric white light, then stabilised a soft red.</p>
<p>“Time to go home everyone!!!” Miles shouted, and Peter grit his teeth.</p>
<p>Yes. He could go home, and instead of mourning Gwen, he could fight <em>for</em> her instead.</p>
<p>He crawled to the top of the collider and watched as his new-friends, Spider-Men and Women from a half-dozen other realities, bid farewell.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your turn Wiz,” Miles said, taping away at the holographic screen built into the side of the Super-Collider. He snorted.</p>
<p>“Well… nice meeting you all. Us web-heads need to stick together, you know.”</p>
<p>They all laughed, and Peter turned his gaze onto the younger Gwen one more time.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” he whispered, offering a weak smile, which she returned softly.</p>
<p>“Go get ’em, Spider-Man.”</p>
<p>He let go of the roof and let himself fall into the beam.</p>
<p>The collider vanished, and he was yanked into a tunnel of blue and white light, hurled across the Multiverse in a fraction of a second.</p>
<p>Then it was over, and Peter was flung out of the Window with a horrible ‘<em>snapp!’</em>. He crashed into cobblestones, rolling to a stop.</p>
<p>Voices of shock and surprise-filled the air, and Peter shook his head rapidly, scanning his surrounds.</p>
<p>He was back at Hogwarts. The ruins of it at least. The Window hovered high above him, rapidly folding in on itself, a screeching whistle of air ripping through the sky. The torn space sealed shut, effervescent gas sucked through the opening and back into the ether beyond. Then, with a final, sickening, ‘<em>crack!’ </em>the portal vanished.</p>
<p>Or, no. Not entirely. He could, still, just see a slight warping to the air. The Window was still there, but it had sealed itself closed once more.</p>
<p>He let out a long shaky breath and put his hands on his knees.</p>
<p>Only then did he realise a dozen wizards and SHIELD agents had their wands pointed at his head.</p>
<p>“Um… I can totally explain.”</p>
<hr/>
<h2>Jemma</h2>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">SHIELD Academy of Science and Technology; Oregon, USA. 2001</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Jemma Simmons stood outside in the fresh air, SHIELD issue backpack slung over her shoulder, staring at the campus across the field from her. It was a gorgeous scene. Elaborate fountains, perfectly maintained footpaths, walls so pristinely white it looked as though they might have been polished, and all of it set to the backdrop of Oregon forestlands. The SHIELD Academy. The building in front of Jemma – the square-shaped white-walled building with the glass roof – was the Science Academy. It was <em>gorgeous.</em> And it would be her home for the next three years.</p>
<p>“Well, that is impressive, isn’t it?” Leopold Fitz stated, stepping up beside her with his own backpack. Behind them, roughly fifteen students were filling out of the bus that had brought them out into the middle of nowhere. They were from all across the world, which had surprised her at first. Wasn’t SHIELD an American agency? But there were two people – brother and sister – from Indonesia; a small fidgety boy from South Africa; a tall girl from Brazil; another from Mongolia; a pair of twins from the Czech Republic; and finally, a pasty girl from London, though she spoke with a Scottish accent stronger even than Fitz’s. The other eight were from across the United States. Fitz and Simmons – both at age twenty – weren’t even the youngest in the group, that title belonged to Miss Barbara Gordon – a seventeen-year-old who’d created an intelligent virus designed to break into corporate systems to search for possible links to terrorism. Rumour had it she had caught a very big fish, but Jemma didn’t know who.</p>
<p>Finally, their minder/instructor stepped off the bus, which promptly drove away.</p>
<p>“Well kids…” The instructor was a tall woman, with greying hair (though she dyed it blonde, it was quite noticeable), with a clipped way of speaking that reminded Jemma of Madame Umbridge. She suppressed a shiver. “This is the Academy of Science; let me be the first to say congratulations to all of you for making the cut.”</p>
<p>That was rich. There had been over 200 students trying to get into this course, and each of them already had a bloody PhD to their names! Fitz and Simmons had spent the past year undergoing intensive study in fields like Engineering, Biology and Physics so they’d actually be able to back up the five University degrees The Magical Intelligence Bureau had created for the pair of them. Fortunately, rebuilding an alien spaceship/city sitting unused under a sheet of ice for 10,000 years was a good method of ‘on the job’ learning. It had been absolute murder – and she’d had more fun than at any other time in her <em>life. </em>Thanks to their dedication, both had passed the entrance exams with flying colours and impressed at their interviews. She didn’t know if MIB had interfered in the selection process to ensure their acceptance and didn’t want to know. They had earned their spots here, and that was that.</p>
<p>Though their real objective was to infiltrate SHIELD from the ground up so they could be in a position to protect Harry, Ginny and Atlantis; the SHIELD Academy was still the best possible opportunity she could imagine to learn about how the world really worked. Jemma would use that opportunity for as long as it was available to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The instructor continued blabbering as she led them towards the building, and Fitz slid his hand into her hers. She grasped it tightly, holding to the familiarity he provided. They were on their own now. They couldn’t use magic – the risk was too great. They couldn’t contact Lance – the other sleeper, sent to the Combat Academy. And they had no means of contacting Atlantis, or MIB. But they had each other, and that was something.</p>
<p>Orientation did not involve a party. Instead, a group of senior students took them into a giant observatory and spent two hours giving them an in-depth look at space using SHIELD’s powerful telescopes. It was thrilling, and, for a group of socially awkward geniuses, <em>sooooo</em> much better than a party. Jemma and Fitz had both seen the star charts in Atlantis and perused the Ancient Database’s planetary logs, but that didn’t take away from the sheer amazement that came from actually looking out at stars and exo-planets in high definition.</p>
<p>Neither did the older students try and force them into making friends or socialising. They had been where Jemma and Fitz now stood, and they knew that doing such things would have done no good. For geniuses, interactions came through shared interests, identity and respect – not through forced social situations.</p>
<p>However, Jemma’s first month at the SHIELD Academy of Sciences was just what she expected. Hell. With a capital H. The first half of the day was comprised solely of fitness classes. From sun-up to lunch, they’d be doing exercises and standard weapon operation. Then, from midday until well after dark, they’d attend scientific operations seminars. Basically, presentation after presentation about scientific subjects so varied and seemingly unrelated it was driving her insane. Then there was the homework. Jemma had thought Snape was terrible when it came to assigning ungodly amounts of homework with no practical application. Merlin had shebeen wrong.</p>
<p>Things became slightly easier in the second and third months, mostly because of their increased fitness and energy levels. Not only that, but Fitz started worrying about the subjects they were studying. He thought there was some sort of pattern, some hidden test that they were missing, and as they wore into the fourth month, Jemma started to agree with him.</p>
<p>They didn’t make many friends. All the other first years were older than them by at least three years, most by over five. But they weren’t top of the class – to Jemma’s disappointment – and that meant they weren’t deliberately ostracised like Sammy Ramirez was. Jemma, and by association Fitz, did make friends with young Barbara, and with an older boy called Ray.</p>
<p>It was Barbara who discovered the link between all the mismatched subjects – to Fitz’s eternal shame and frustration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Barbara slammed the door to Jemma’s dorm shut, then twisted the lock in place, eyes darting around frantically. Jemma was so startled she eepped, dropping her Quantum Physics textbook to the floor. Fitz did slightly better; shooting up from his seat at her desk and maintaining his feet. Ray Palmer – who had been sitting on the floor leaning against Simmons’ bed frame – smashed his head against the metal.</p>
<p>Barbara ignored all of their complaints, throwing a hefty tome onto Jemma’s bed and pointing at it.</p>
<p>“I figured it out!” She exclaimed eagerly, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.</p>
<p>“Figured what out? That you’re crazy?” Jemma said, taking a few deep breaths to ease her racing heart. Fitz stepped up to Barbara’s side, then peered down at the book. He gasped softly.</p>
<p>“What?” Ray asked, picking himself up off the floor as he rubbed the back of his head.</p>
<p>“The subjects we’ve been covering, each one is listed here in the SHIELD Handbook – under the section <em>‘Infiltration and Preservation.’ </em>Each one has to do with some skill needed to infiltrate a secure facility or protect oneself or others in the event of a foothold situation. Fitz was <em>right</em>. The subject order hasn’t been random at all. It’s been a test. Now, if I was a betting girl, I’d say that there’s going to be, like, a surprise exam where we’ll have to break out of a place or something, and the trick is that if you figured out the subject order, you’ll beat the test… If you didn’t…” She drew her finger across her throat. The others all swallowed.</p>
<p>“The one time I actually <em>wanted</em> to be wrong,” Fitz grumbled.</p>
<p>“Well,” Ray said, taking the book, “We best get studying how to break out of a secure compound…”</p>
<p>Their wisdom paid off, as, at the end of the sixth month, randomly and separately, each of the fifteen students were sent – entirely without warning – into a randomised simulation of exactly the nature Barbara had guessed. Jemma was proud to say she beat her sim – a stealth incursion of an African Prison – the third fastest of all the students in her percentile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<h2>Barbara</h2>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Location… Unknown; 2002</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Barbara slung her backpack over her shoulder, whistling softly to herself as she exited the bathroom. The second she stepped into the hallway, a hand shot out from nowhere, wrapping around her mouth. A sharp stinging jabbed her stomach, and darkness overtook her.</p>
<p>When she came too, she was in a dank room with six other people – four girls all younger than her, a woman in her thirties, and a boy about the same age she was. The floor was concrete, the walls and roof too. The only light came from the hallway beyond the one wall that wasn’t solid – it was obscured by metal bars instead. A prison cell. Rubbing her head, she hesitantly rose to her feet.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” The woman asked. Barbara pulled up her jumper – she was still wearing the clothes she’d been wearing in the school – and ran a hand along a small electrical burn on her lower abdomen. Nothing to worry about, she’d suffered far worse during her years on the streets of Suicide Slum.</p>
<p>“Fine. I take it this is our exam?”</p>
<p>“Exam?” the woman asked incredulously. “We were <em>abducted</em> by terrorists! You think this is an exam?!”</p>
<p><em>Ah</em>, so that was the simulation. A terrorist situation. Only this place seemed too clean for the Middle East. She must still be in Europe or America – assuming she wasn’t just in a simulator. Barbara ignored the woman, instead stepping up to the cell door and peering out. Two guards stood at the end of the hallway, murmuring to one another in Russian.</p>
<p>Carefully, she reached through the grate and felt at the lock. It was built into the door itself, rather than an external padlock or bolt. Bugger. It was times like this when she really wished she had Kara’s superstrength.</p>
<p>Pursing her lips, she turned back to the cell. It was a small space, with barely enough room to house all its occupants. No windows, no air vents. The kids were all in different states of malnourishment, with one girl with matted blonde hair definitely the worst of the lot. The smell was terrible as well, but, again, Babs had smelt far worse sleeping behind Samwell’s Diner. It had been a favoured haunt of hers, with most not going near it because of the butchery across the road. Compared with the smell of rotted offcuts, a little body odour was nothing. But, here was the interesting thing. There was a toilet seat in the cell. Battered and old, but it was there. She stepped up to it, ignoring the woman – who was telling her to stop moving lest she call the guards – and the boy, who was staring at her curiously. She placed her hand on the outside of the bowl and felt… thumping. Active plumbing. Good. That meant there was a mechanism to flush the waste.</p>
<p>This was an exam. That meant there was a way to get out of here – though it wouldn’t be easy. Fortunately, Babs had been studying how to escape from prison cells – not to mention, she’d committed her fair share of robberies. Her father – the Metropolis Police Commissioner – would be incredibly disappointed in his daughter she knew. But he’d gone and gotten himself killed when she was eight, so she didn’t really care what he thought.</p>
<p>A hand grabbed her shoulder.</p>
<p>“I said leave it alone! Do you want to call those guards down on…” She grabbed the woman’s wrist and twisted, snapping it. Then she shoved her back to the floor. The kids whimpered and muttered, but didn’t scream out. They had been beaten down too far for that.</p>
<p>“Shut up and let me work,” she hissed. Then she reached for the bottom of her shirt and pulled both it and her jumper over her head. The room was far colder than she’d thought it would be, though there was no air circulation. Underground perhaps? Regardless, she reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. Being sure to stay bent over and pointed away from the others, she removed the garment and – trying to quash the embarrassment factor – scrutinised the clasp. It was larger than most bra clasps, but that was very much intentional. You couldn’t hide something in a small flimsy plastic one. She removed the covering, and the Luthor Core was right where she’d hidden it.</p>
<p>Barbara would be the first to admit that she wasn’t a genius. She wasn’t a molecular biologist like Simmons or an experimental physicist like Fitz. That didn’t mean she wasn’t smart – you had to be freakishly smart to get into SHIELD in the first place. She was an exceptional engineer – the benefits of growing up around Lex fucking Luthor – in both software and hardware. But her real talent was with computers. Programming, software design, hacking, if it could be done with code, she was a master at it. She had built the Oracle Virus – the world’s most advanced piece of code – at sixteen. A virus capable of bypassing any firewall. A virus that used a pattern scan of her very brain as its core programming. No one had been able to stop the program, because it wasn’t merely a piece of code you could counter. It was as complicated as a human mind. She had done that all by herself. And no one could replicate it either – because you needed her brain to do it. She wasn’t a genius – but she was clever enough to never go anywhere without her best tool.</p>
<p>The Luthor Core, on the other hand, was Lex’s masterpiece, a microchip that could interface with any piece of technology. But, she had redesigned this chip herself to do what she needed it to do.</p>
<p>She tagged the Core onto the bowl of the toilet, and waited.</p>
<p>Without the Core Remote or a computer, she couldn’t use the chip to upload the Virus – it was a <em>toilet</em> after all. But what the tag would do was interrupt the plumbing as it tried to sync to technology that wasn’t there. And that would…</p>
<p>Footsteps. She pulled her shirt and jumper back on, then resumed her position crouched on the floor as two men, dressed all in black, approached the door.</p>
<p>“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” The man on the left said, hitting the cell door with his fist. The other prisoners all started crying, retreating into the corner furthest from both the door and Barbara. Barbara remained crouched and tried to fiddle with the tag. She didn’t think she was very convincing, but the guards did, as they opened the cell door and moved towards her. Barbara lashed out with her leg, knocking back the first man, then she punched the second man in the balls. She sprang to her feet and grabbed the sidearm from the man’s holster. She slammed it into the man’s gut, then rolled away. The first man recovered, but it was too late. She fired, taking him in the side. He dropped, and she pounced on him, slamming the weapon into his head, knocking him out. The second guard tried to get up, but he was cradling his balls with one hand – not a trained soldier – and she sent him into unconsciousness too.</p>
<p>Slowly, she rose to full height and released a long shaky breath. Nine months of training to take down armed assailants. Nine months of strength and fitness training she hadn’t thought her body could even <em>handle</em>. But… well, apparently, she’d learned something. She stared at the gun in her hand in shock, until the crying of the prisoners brought her back to the moment.</p>
<p>Taking a breath, she retrieved her bra and the Luthor Core. Then she turned to the prisoners.</p>
<p>“Do you want out of here or what?” She barked, then she retrieved the keys from one of the men and exited the cell. No alarms blared. She should have a few minutes before the guards had to check-in, and security discovered her escape. The question was, what was her objective? Was it simply to escape? Or did she have another task…</p>
<p>In the next cell over from her was someone she recognised. Lance Hunter. He was an Operations student, training to be a Combat Specialist.</p>
<p>“You stuck in this sim too?” He asked, stepping up to the cell door with a cocky grin.</p>
<p>“Yep. Don’t suppose you have a directive, do you?”</p>
<p>“I was told to wait for a contact, then escort them to the central control centre. You Barbara Gordon by any chance?”</p>
<p>“Better believe it,” she said, then unlocked the door. The other prisoners had not followed her out of the cell.</p>
<p>He stepped out, and she offered him the weapon, but he shook his head.</p>
<p>“I’ll get my own.” Then he frowned, seeing the open door. “How did you…”</p>
<p>“I’m very crafty,” she told him, then, without a glance backward, they marched down the hallway.</p>
<p>Three other cells were occupied – two full of women, one with two men in it. Babs insisted on unlocking each door and giving them all the opportunity to leave, but none took it. Figuring she’d given them a chance, and that trying to force them would just endanger their mission, she dismissed them and followed Lance. He seemed to respect her for that.</p>
<p>They reached the door, standing backs against the wall. She clicked off the safety and nodded to Lance. He opened the door and slipped inside. Immediately yells erupted from beyond the portal, followed by the sounds of bones breaking. Barbara ducked in behind Lance, and she shot one guard who was trying to sneak up on her companion from behind, but otherwise, she didn’t help much – he was simply that good.</p>
<p>Once Lance had subdued the four guards in what must have been a break room – judging by the tables, chairs and bunkbeds – they crossed to the other side, Lance retrieving a gun and extra mags from one of the fallen guards.</p>
<p>“So, is it Bobbi? Barbs? Barbie…”</p>
<p>“Babs. And no, I’m not dating you.”</p>
<p>He smirked slightly. “I think my wife would have something to say if I tried that. Her names Barbara too, hence the reason I asked.”</p>
<p>“Ah.”</p>
<p>She and Lance moved into the next hallway, which, thankfully, was empty. Though Lance shot out the security camera the second they entered.</p>
<p>“Which one is this for you?” he asked as they approached a metal staircase.</p>
<p>“First. They do this often?”</p>
<p>“This is my third. I’m in my second year at Ops. I think we get more use out of it than the other Academies.”</p>
<p>“Makes sense,” she agreed, “What actually <em>is</em> it?”</p>
<p>He laughed, “Wait and see. I’m not spoiling anything.”</p>
<p>He put a foot on the step and winced at the soft sound it made.</p>
<p>“Bugger. Keep your steps soft. One at a time. Hold my six, alarms should be going any minute.” He led the way up the staircase, and all their talking ceased. Sure enough, an alarm started ringing when they reached the third floor up. She assumed Lance knew the floor plan of this place, as he seemed to know exactly where he was going.</p>
<p>Five floors up, he kicked open a door and shot three people on the other side. Babs followed and took in their assailants. Caucasian, reasonably tall and well built. They were definitely underground as well, because she’d yet to see a window.</p>
<p>“Soviet era base, Eastern Europe probably,” She whispered, “Russian sponsored insurgents maybe, or ex KGB affiliates.”</p>
<p>He nodded, but said nothing, discarding his weapon and taking a semi-automatic from one of the downed men. Babs grabbed an extra mag from one of them as well. Finally, they reached a bulkhead door.</p>
<p>“Can you crack it?” He asked, gesturing to the keypad lock on the outside.</p>
<p>“Cover me.” She placed her pistol on the ground, and pulled off the cover of the panel, exposing the wires beneath. Boots thudded on the ground, shouting echoing off the concrete walls. She grabbed two wires, crossing them, before pulling a pin and moving it between ports. Lance opened fire behind her, and she winced at the kickback, trying to focus on her work. <em>‘The input needs to be routed around the door mechanism, force a security open…’</em> She switched two more brackets, and Lance pivoted, aiming down the T-junction to fire on two men coming up behind them. Two bullets ricocheted off the door above her, but she ignored them and the rising beat of her heart. <em>Come on…</em></p>
<p>The door clicked, then slid open. She shoved Lance to the floor, just in time to miss the barrage of bullets that came out the open door. He immediately pushed her off, then aimed through the door and fired wildly. Then he rolled forward and dove for cover behind a desk inside. Babs retrieved her pistol and fired back into the hall, taking out a man who’d rushed around to take advantage of the distraction.</p>
<p>Legs shaking with adrenaline, she rose slowly to her feet, trying to still her heavy breathing.</p>
<p>“Clear!” Lance said, and she followed him inside. She used the panel on this side to lock the door, then turned to see five guys lying on the floor in puddles of blood. One of them was Lance.</p>
<p>“Shit!” She exclaimed, kneeling beside him. He was leaning up against the same console, and blood was seeping through a hole in his side. He groaned in pain, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Yep. Gonna lose marks for that,” he hissed.</p>
<p>“Who cares about marks! You’ve been shot!”</p>
<p>“Finish the mission,” he snapped. I’ll hold the door. GO!” She jerked backward at his tone, then did as she was told. Moving up to the central console, she scanned the half-dozen screens showing layouts of the facility and security camera feeds until she found the main terminal. She withdrew the Luthor Core from her pocket and slapped it onto the hard-drive. Immediately, the machine booted up, and Babs began typing rows of code. She’d been right. The computer language defaulted to Russian. Within seconds, the Oracle Virus imprinted on the Core had uploaded to the system, and she’d broken through the password and into the secure network. She retrieved a disk-drive from a shelf behind her and plugged it in, then set the Virus to search for anything irregular in the facility files. If she was supposed to extract something, she imagined it would be… Bingo!</p>
<p>
  <em>‘File Ex-08417: SHIELD mission index 957376cxv.’</em>
</p>
<p>A SHIELD mission file, on a Russian computer. That didn’t bode well. She downloaded the files, as well as any document that mentioned the mission key, then sent the building into lockdown – with the exception of a set path to the exit one floor above – and wiped the server. She retrieved the hard-disk and the Luthor Core, then moved back to Lance.</p>
<p>“Data secure. Let’s get out of here.” He nodded, and she helped him to his feet.</p>
<p>They hobbled back to the staircase – thankfully without meeting any other guards – and Babs helped Lance up to the top floor. Here, five men – and a woman – waited for them, each carrying full automatic weaponry. Babs and Lance split to either side of the corridor, keeping hidden behind the wall. She ignored Lance’s wince of pain as he tried to keep himself upright.</p>
<p>“Five,” she whispered, “Four, three, two, one…” The alarms shut off abruptly, and in the brief second the guards were disorientated by the sudden lack of sound, she and Lance rounded the corner and opened fire. She shot one in the chest and another in the leg as he moved out of the way. Lance hit the other four – downing three but only grazing the fourth. Babs ducked back around the corner, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid taking a hit to the shoulder as shots peppered the concrete behind her. Lance tried another shot, and just missed taking a bullet to the head. But he did it, sending the two final guards to the ground.</p>
<p>Babs bit down on her lip to distract herself from the burning pain in her shoulder, and spun around the wall, gun trained on the fallen men. She advanced down the hallway and kicked the weapons away from two of the men – who’d been trying to reach for them. She stepped on one for good measure.</p>
<p>Lance made his way down the corridor, using the wall to support him. When he reached her, she took his arm around her shoulder, and he smiled gratefully. She opened the exit… and everything vanished in a flash of bright white light.</p>
<p>When the glare finally cleared from her eyes, she found herself in a giant dome with clear white panelled walls – electrodes fastened to each corner. It was easily the size of a football field, and just as tall.</p>
<p>“What the fuck?” she breathed. A door slid open in the wall on the far side of the room, and three nurses rushed out with stretchers. She lowered Lance down onto one, and he grinned stupidly at her.</p>
<p>“Told you it was cool,” he said. Babs couldn’t help but nod dumbly. She sat down on the second stretcher, and a nurse began working on her shoulder. He handed her a green whistle, and she took a puff, then released a long breath.</p>
<p>“Nice job Gordon. You should have joined Ops,” Lance said as they were wheeled towards the door. She closed her eyes as the morphine began to flood her system, and the adrenaline proceeded to ebb away, leaving her tired to her very bones.</p>
<p>“No thank you,” she said softly, “That, was utterly <em>terrifying.</em>”</p>
<p>“He’s right, though. You did very well out there,” a new voice said. One she didn’t recognise. She cracked her eyes back open and came face to face with a man with thin blonde hair and a rectangular face, wearing a suit and tie. He looked down at his clipboard and pointed at several things she couldn’t see.</p>
<p>“Cell escape… very well handled. Fastest time in two years, though, I should point out you weren’t exactly supposed to have access to any technology.” He stared at her pointedly. “That being said, the fact that you were prepared enough to have that on you, and nobody <em>caught</em> it – and believe me, we checked – means as far as I’m concerned, you get bonus marks.”… <em>Yay?</em> She’d gotten fucking <em>shot!</em></p>
<p>“Following instruction from a senior agent: A+. Moral code: B+. Good call on not trying to force the other hostages out of the cells. The boy was a plant who would have stabbed you in the back and raised the alarm.” She resisted the urge to blanch at that. “But, you <em>did</em> release two serial killers back into the wild, so points off for that.”</p>
<p>“Serial killers?” she exclaimed before she could stop herself.</p>
<p>“The two men. If you had looked closely enough, you would have recognised one of them from the SHIELD list of most-wanted, and their clothes and temperaments should have been an indication of possible hostility.” He flipped the page, and Barbara slumped. She had missed that?</p>
<p>“Marksmanship – Sci-Tech: Solid A. Willingness to risk oneself to help your partner, proficiently demonstrated. Ability to act cool and find a technological solution to a problem under fire: A+. Awareness: A. Computer science skills: A+. Data examination and extraction: A++. You set a new record for that one actually. Quite impressive.”</p>
<p>This time her jaw really did fall open. This man must be a high-level agent. She had set a <em>record?</em></p>
<p>“You didn’t leave your partner behind when he was injured – you’d be surprised how many people fail that one – and kept your head as you escorted him to the surface. Finally: pain threshold. Could be better, but you maintained focus and remained on mission, which is more than many can say. All in all, that’s an A grade. For your first time in the Arena, that’s an incredibly good score, Miss Gordon.” The agent folded his clipboard against his chest and stared at her inquisitively.</p>
<p>“Miss Gordon, have you thought about what you want to do at SHIELD once you finish your training?” Babs was struggling a bit to think straight with the morphine in her system and the nurses cutting away the shoulder of her blood-soaked shirt to clean the wound.</p>
<p>“Um… I mean… not particularly. I was kind of more concerned with trying to survive the classes, to be honest.” The agent chuckled.</p>
<p>“So was I when I first came through. But don’t worry, things get a lot easier now. We have to push you hard the first year, so we can weed out the people who aren’t here for the right reasons. Have a think about it. If you want my opinion, sign up for some communications and ops electives. Don’t get sucked into the trap of only studying your best field. You might be great at Computer Science and Engineering, but you could also be a good analyst or a good fighter. Those are the types of qualities I look for in Field Agents.”</p>
<p>“Who are you, sir?”</p>
<p>He smiled at her then, a kindly smile. “My name is Phil Coulson, Agent of SHIELD. If you decide you want to get out of the lab and into the field, give me a call. And you can tell your friends Fitz and Simmons the same thing.” He winked at her, then turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the nurses to fuss over her as Barbara’s head continued to spin.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Authors Note:</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Hey everybody! Ghost’s mother is on the mend, and we’re finally getting back on a sort of schedule. Hopefully, we’ll have the next chapters ready to go up by mid-October, Halloween at the latest.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>On another note, while Ghost has been away from the keyboard, I’ve done some solo work, including a new chapter for the Light in the Darkness Anthology series, and a Dark Multiverse Gemini Curse oneshot AU inspired by some of our reviews that I might turn into a fully-fledged Dark!Harry/Dark!Ginny/Dark!Daphne AU.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Finally, who else is super pumped for this Skyrim style Hogwarts RPG game? I saw the trailer a couple days ago, and I have to say, I really, really hope they put some decent effort into the different subjects you can learn and not just the standard DADA and Charms. Fingers crossed it isn’t a total crapshoot like Square’s Avengers game. Boy was that a disappointment.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Act II, Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Act II, Chapter 1: Solitude</h1>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Solitude, <em>Pilón Lajas</em>, Layqasuyu (Bolivia)</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 16th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Jean quickly realised something about Solitude, capital city of Layqasuyu. It was full of… <em>people.</em></p>
<p>Ordinary people.</p>
<p>Rickety shops just like back home, with adults shouting and showing their wares of jewellery and foodstuffs. Alleyways spiralled off into the depths of the city, cut between rows and rows of houses. Perhaps the buildings were made from different materials, and maybe their skin was darker, but the cacophony of voices, the smell of body odour and the weight of the crowd… it was all just the same.</p>
<p>Just people.</p>
<p>It was so jarring she spent her first minutes in the city just gaping at everything.</p>
<p>Being a squib, she was only tangentially tethered to the wizarding world. But she still knew all about the Cold War. About how the Layqasuyu king had ordered the assassination of the Federation president. The reports she’d read in the Daily Prophet and the occasional rants her Grandpa Charles went on had not painted the Layqasuyu – or those who’d elected to join their newfound ‘Alliance’ – in a very positive light. He’d described them as backwater isolationists, living in fear of the new world. Her Grandpa, being the most knowledgeable person she knew, was usually right, so Jean hadn’t cared much to question him.</p>
<p>But Jean didn’t see any fearmongering here. All she saw were people working, shopping, travelling from point a to b. She saw elderly women doing their groceries, young men trying to impress their girl-friends, families arguing, and children running amuck. It was precisely what she’d expect to see at a Tesco back home.</p>
<p>Okay, well, that wasn’t entirely true. The people here did keep shooting her odd glances, but she was reasonably confident that was because she was wearing what amounted to a bodysuit, and looked very, <em>very</em> British.</p>
<p>Hesitancy reverberating through every step she took, she approached one of the food stalls and gave the man staring at her in confusion her best smile. She was, to put it mildly, starving.</p>
<p>“Um, hello?” she asked, biting her lip. She really hoped the man spoke English because she didn’t speak anything save a single year of high school French.</p>
<p>“Greetings, young miss, uh… would you like anything?”</p>
<p>The man did not speak English, but Jean understood every word he said anyway. She glanced down at herself again. At the body she wore that both was and wasn’t her own. God, this day would never end. Was this what magic truly felt like? She didn’t think so. This… this thing was something different.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘You are transcendent now Jean Grey. Embrace it!’</em>
</p>
<p>She shivered uncontrollably, resolutely ignoring the voice.</p>
<p>That was about when she realised she had no money.</p>
<p>“Um… I don’t…” She sighed, counting to three under her breath.</p>
<p>“Is this Solitude?” She asked.</p>
<p>The man nodded, brows furrowed in confusion.</p>
<p>“I don’t know how I got here,” Jean said, “I just woke up outside the city… I don’t have any money, and I’ve been walking all day and…” She clamped her mouth shut before she started crying in the middle of the street.</p>
<p>“You speak perfect Quechua,” the man said, offering her a sad smile. “Did you dissolve incorrectly?”</p>
<p>She didn’t know what that meant. Maybe some sort of travelling that wizards did? There was the Floo, she knew, but that was it. Was there a Floo she could take back to Britain? But no, there wouldn’t be. This country was at war with her own.</p>
<p>She shook her head, dejectedly.</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>The man took an apple from his stall and handed it to her. Then he pointed towards an alleyway two streets down.</p>
<p>“Go down there and turn right. A sigh is there with a wreath of flowers. It’s an Inn. Ask for Madame Decari, she’ll help you.”</p>
<p>Jean let out a desperate sigh of relief.</p>
<p>“Thank you! Thank you so much.”</p>
<p>The man waved her off.</p>
<p>“It is nothing. You are pretty, and my sister would be cross if I did not send her a stray puppy that crossed my path.” He winked at her, and Jean waved farewell, before turning and following his directions back into the jostling crowd.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Ealing, West London, The United Kingdom</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 16th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Nick knelt on the ground, staring at the enormous black scorch mark burnt into the grass of the oval, and the corpse lying prone at its centre. Jean Grey, fourteen years old, a Squib born of parents who’d died in the Battle of Hogwarts. An ordinary girl by all accounts. Why would the embodiment of cosmic rebirth go after her?</p>
<p>Regardless, she was dead now. Smoke was still rolling across her body. No one dared touch it. The last one who’d tried had burned himself through Kevlar gloves, and the skin where the agent had touched her had instantly turned to ash. This was so god damn messed up it wasn’t funny. Next, he’d have Vampires running around.</p>
<p>“Miss Granger is awake recovering in Atlantis,” Agent Maggie Addams said, phone held to her ear. “The Quinjets have reached Hogwarts with the drill as well. They’ll start digging down to the reactor on your call.”</p>
<p>“Made. I want McCoy and Pryde found. With any luck, they’ll have some idea about what happened to our people. Where’s Coulson?”</p>
<p>“On his way. He’s bringing the girl’s carers.”</p>
<p>He nodded, then stood up, still staring at the red hair of the fourteen-year-old girl lying dead on the ground. There was something here he was missing. Unfortunately, he usually ended up feeling like that when magic was involved.</p>
<p>He glanced around the field, where a group of Atlanteans were raising wards around to obscure it from human eyes. Thank god Peggy Carter had started SHIELD’s scientists on countering the Statute of Secrecy the second she gained authority over all supernatural and magical investigations in the US.</p>
<p>In the other direction, Agent Henshaw was interrogating the witnesses with Neville Longbottom and Daphne Greengrass. Three kids in particular looked promising. Robert Drake, Hope Cable and Scott Summers. All kids in Jean’s grade who’d been directly in the Phoenix’s path and exposed to its power. All three were seemingly fine, if shaken, and all of their stories matched up. Jean had realised the bird was targeting her in the seconds before it hit, and pushed her friends in a different direction, saving their lives. He’d make sure Henshaw took DNA samples from them before they wrapped up. If those kids had been exposed somehow… it was identical to Carol Danvers story. Exposure to the Tesseract, and the cosmic radiation it gave off, had given her those powers. If the Phoenix could do the same…</p>
<p>He did <em>not</em> need another fiasco like the one at Culver University to clean up. Fucking Ross.</p>
<p>An SUV drove through the ward barrier, coming to a stop at the edge of the field. A few seconds later, the doors opened, revealing Coulson and an elderly man with hard features. They moved to the back of the car and opened the doors for a man in a wheelchair.</p>
<p>“Anything on the bird’s whereabouts?”</p>
<p>“Not yet,” Maggie told him.</p>
<p>The elderly man rushed past them, falling to his knees beside Jean’s corpse. Coulson approached from behind, wheeling the bald man in the wheelchair, tears streaking down his face.</p>
<p>Ah, the carers.</p>
<p>“Oh, Rachel… I’m sorry. I promised, and I failed… God… I truly can’t do anything right, can I?” the first man muttered, and Fury realised with a start that he <em>knew</em> the man.</p>
<p>Erik Lensherr. They’d been in the same unit when Nick had served as a marine in Korea. A holocaust survivor. The man was a wizard?</p>
<p>“Erik… It’s not your fault,” the chair-bound man said, voice trembling. “You couldn’t…”</p>
<p>“Couldn’t <em>what </em>Charles? Do anything? That’s the story of my <em>life! </em>I couldn’t save my mother, my father, my daughters! Now my granddaughter is dead too!”</p>
<p>Fury was about to speak up, but another voice, a very irritating and infuriating and familiar voice, spoke over him in a rush.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Mr Lensherr, but I’m not sure that’s correct.” All five of them spun around in time to see <em>Hermione fucking Granger</em> step out of a rippling white rectangular doorway, dressed in nothing but a hospital gown. Her entire body was wreathed in flickering white energy, and her eyes shone like halos. And in her hand was a computer tablet.</p>
<p>“Miss Granger! You can’t be…” The doorway snapped shut behind her, and the doctor who’d been trying to follow the witch winked out of existence. Granger, utterly ignoring them, stepped up to the girl’s body, staring at it quizzically.</p>
<p>“Yes. This body doesn’t have any Source traces at all. It’s fake.”</p>
<p>Fury blinked.</p>
<p>“A… a fake?” Lensherr whispered.</p>
<p>“Oh, yes. Living things leave a trace that can be detected through the Source, and this one doesn’t have it. It’s a mirage. A ruse to throw us off.”</p>
<p>Granger smiled softly, and the white light around her faded away, leaving her just in a hospital gown that was not subtle at all.</p>
<p>“Sorry. I’m Dr Hermione Granger, nice to meet you. Also, I should probably apologise, since I kind of unleashed this thing in the first place. It was an accident, but blame me if you want, I don’t mind.”</p>
<p>She knelt down beside the girl’s body, then waved her hand through it. The corpse disintegrated to ash.</p>
<p>“See, fake.”</p>
<p>Fury clenched his jaw so hard he gave himself a headache.</p>
<p>He HATED this girl!</p>
<p>Not only was she the only person alive tethered to the so-called ‘Source’ of magic; but she was utterly brilliant, akin to Britney Spears in terms of fame in the Wizarding World, and prone to self-destructive tendencies that usually left the world hanging on the edge of a precipice.</p>
<p>And, perhaps most frustrating, was the fact that she made him (<em>HIM!) </em>feel <em>dumb.</em></p>
<p>“Now, I believe I can use Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle to predict where the Phoenix will manifest,” she continued, rattling off as Longbottom ran towards them with a heavy scowl on his face, “Of course, that creates the problem of knowing <em>where</em> it is, but not <em>when.</em>”</p>
<p>“Hermione!” Neville yelled. “You just left the Hospital Wing?! Are you insane!!”</p>
<p>“Probably.”</p>
<p>He couldn’t help it. He facepalmed.</p>
<p>Coulson and Maggie were staring at the woman with expressions like stunned mullets, and Xavier and Lensherr were desperately trying to follow as the witch jabbered on.</p>
<p>Sometimes, he fucking hated this job.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">The Himalayan Mountains,</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 16th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“Quickly! It’s just up here!” Danny shouted over the roaring wind. Kamala stumbled over yet another rock, arms wrapped around herself to maintain some semblance of warmth in her veins. Everything was white and bitter cold. Her wind stopper and warming charms did absolutely nothing to preserve her body heat, and she was bone idle tired from the climb. Danny had led them expertly up the side of the mountain from the Portkey point, but they’d still needed to trek up a goat track for four hours to reach their destination. Now they were in the middle of only Allah knew where, and she was sure if she sneezed, icicles would shoot out of her nose.</p>
<p>“How much farther?!” Luke howled as they continued their trudging through the piles of snow.</p>
<p>“The landing is just around the corner!”</p>
<p>Danny illuminated his glowing fist, then punched it into the snow. The white powder exploded, debris sucked into the wind, and Kamala finally got a glimpse of the world beyond.</p>
<p>It was the most magnificent view she’d ever seen. Far below, rivers wound through the valleys created by the enormous mountain ranges, passes cut between ridges and peaks, tiny settlements barely visible from this high up. They were on the border of three nations here. India, China, and Kamala’s ancestral home of Pakistan. She’d never been here before, and she hoped that maybe she’d get a chance to see Karachi or Azad Jammu where her parents were from, on their return trip. But right now, the heavenly city of Kun Lun was her goal. She was going to see something few witches even knew existed at all.</p>
<p>They rushed through the gap in the snow Danny created, and finally emerged atop a flat space cut into the mountainside. Snow-covered every surface and the Iron Fist’s blonde hair was whipping in the wind. Ice had crystalised in Luke’s eyebrows and goatee, and Kamala imagined her own face wasn’t much better, despite the balaclava and two scarves she wore.</p>
<p>“I don’t understand!” Kamala shouted. “Where’s the city?”</p>
<p>“There!”</p>
<p>Danny pointed out into the abyss beyond the cliffside.</p>
<p>“Are you insane?!” Luke bellowed.</p>
<p>A thick puffy white cloud enveloped them, pummelling Kamala and Luke with snow and bitter cold. Danny seemed unperturbed. Instead, he just walked deeper into the cloud layer until the mist swallowed him entirely.</p>
<p>“Danny!”</p>
<p>The wind suddenly died. Fading to a breeze then vanishing as if it were never there.</p>
<p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p>
<p>Kamala reached up and wiped some of the condensation and snow from her face, squinting into the darkness. The cloud thinned, and sunlight started peeking through.</p>
<p>“Oh God in Heaven, hallowed be thy name,” Luke whispered. Kamala pulled her balaclava off and stared, open-mouthed, as the sky cleared. A great gate of stone and jade had appeared at the edge of the cliff, leading out to a stone bridge suspended over the abyss of the world below. The path back down the mountain had vanished. Danny was standing atop the bridge, beckoning to them. Beyond him, straddled by clouds, a great castle soared into the sky, warm and inviting.</p>
<p>“Kun Lun,” she whispered.</p>
<p>“Come on!” Danny said, “We’re expected.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Act II, Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Updated Disclaimer:</h1>
<p>Ghost faceplanted into a snowdrift as Gwenpool dropped them out of the void.</p>
<p>“I hate you.”</p>
<p>“No you don’t,” Gwen stated, dropping to the ground and doing a twirl.</p>
<p>“I’m pretty sure I do.”</p>
<p>Miracle pulled her head out of the snow next to him, scowling at the woman in the unitard.</p>
<p>“I’ll second that.”</p>
<p>“I just saved your fucking lives, and that’s the thanks I get.”</p>
<p>Next came Shade and Wonder, who crashed into their doppelgängers with as little decorum as falling from the sky allows. Their daemons had more grace at least. Valkyrik, Wonder’s Owl daemon, grabbed Melindralena, Shade’s fox daemon, in his talons, flying to the side of the snow and landing on wet grass.</p>
<p>“Ow.”</p>
<p>The final arrivals, Will and Clarissa, fell from the sky, and Clarissa grabbed her husband by the arm and disapparated before they crashed into the others. They reappeared next to the drift, looking exceedingly smug.</p>
<p>“That’s what you get for not owning any of the franchises depicted in your stories,” Clarissa said haughtily, arms folded beneath her breasts.</p>
<p>Gwen rolled her eyes.</p>
<p>“Did you at least find out where the Typewriter is?”</p>
<p>Miracle poked her head above the snow again, scowling.</p>
<p>“And my <em>daughter.</em>”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes. Stop worrying. This story only has a T rating, no kids are going to be hurt and you damn well know it.”</p>
<p>Valkyrik hooted in annoyance.</p>
<p>“Yes, we know who took them.”</p>
<p>Shade exploded out from the side of the snowdrift, spitting powder out of his mouth.</p>
<p>“Lucifer,” Wonder said, falling out after Shade. “They’re in Hell.”</p>
<p>Ghost finally pulled himself out of the snow.</p>
<p>“Shit.”</p>
<hr/>

<h1>Act II, Chapter 2: Devils in the Dark</h1>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Solitude, <em>Pilón Lajas</em>, Layqasuyu, South America</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 16th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Jean sat at the bar, staring at the drink the bartender – Madame Decari – had placed in front of her. A Cuba Libre. It was the only alcoholic drink she could remember by name, and she’d only recognised that because of a TV show. She hadn’t known the names of any wines or beers, and she’d seen enough to know that you didn’t just <em>ask</em> for ‘wine’. If she was supposed to be an adult, she should at least act the part.</p>
<p>She couldn’t bring herself to take a sip.</p>
<p>There was certainly coke in it; she could smell that. And the lime wedge was cute. But she didn’t know what alcohol was inside, and she’d never so much as tried a drink before. She wasn’t that type of person. Did she dare? In a way, it would be like accepting… <em>everything… </em>that had happened to her.</p>
<p>Of course, that was kind of ridiculous, as she was halfway across the world in a body that wasn’t hers, and there was a phantom voice in her head.</p>
<p>“Excuse me, pretty lady,” a voice said, belonging to a burly looking man with thick black hair, “but you don’t look like you belong here.” Jean turned her gaze towards the newcomer as he sat down on the bench beside her. He was shorter than her, very hairy, with long side-burns and bulging muscles. His face had a kind of predator’s smirk; like something a rogue might wear in the movies. He was quite good looking, she decided, though how she came to that conclusion she wasn’t sure. Was it her deciding that? This new, older body? Or the thing inside her?</p>
<p>“I’m not interested,” Jean said, repressing the urge to swallow as fear bubbled up within.</p>
<p>
  <em>Do not fear, Jean Grey. You are reborn. Nothing can harm you unless you let it.</em>
</p>
<p>The burly man chuckled softly, calling for Madame Decari to slide him a beer.</p>
<p>“Sorry. That was rude.”</p>
<p>Jean looked him in the eye, and… and she instantly <em>knew</em> that he was telling the truth. Just by glancing at him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Do not fear, Jean Grey.</em>
</p>
<p>God… did she… had she <em>read</em> his mind?!</p>
<p>He took a swig of beer before holding out his hand to her.</p>
<p>“Name’s Logan. You?”</p>
<p>Jean hesitated for a moment, then took the man’s hand and shook it.</p>
<p>“Jean.”</p>
<p>“You aren’t from around here, Miss Jean. Ain’t hard to see, which definitely means I’m not the only one to have noticed; because as my friends frequently tell me, I’m a terrible judge of character.”</p>
<p>“Now <em>that’s</em> the truth,” another voice said, one with a dead obvious British accent. Jean spun around and found herself face to face with a wiry man with dusty brown hair wearing red-tinted glasses. Unlike ‘Logan’ who wore only a singlet and khaki pants, this man wore trousers, a button shirt, and a jacket over the top. He carried himself better, and in his hand was a white cane, like one a blind man would use.</p>
<p>And Jean <em>knew</em> him.</p>
<p>“Matt?!” She hissed in absolute shock.</p>
<p>Mathew Murdock. A wizard from Jean’s own country. Not only that but one of Harry Potter’s <em>Defenders</em>. Jean knew his sister Maisie; they’d gone on playdates when they were little, though they’d lost contact when Maisie and her father had moved to Atlantis. And Matt had gone missing.</p>
<p>Matt frowned.</p>
<p>“Do I know you?”</p>
<p>She took his hand and pressed it to her face, hoping that it was similar enough for him to maybe recognise.</p>
<p>“It’s Jean! Jean Grey! Maisie’s friend!”</p>
<p>Logan whistled behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was fixated on Matt, begging for him to feel some recognition.</p>
<p>“That’s… You should be fifteen, fourteen?” he muttered. “But the voice is right, and the face…”</p>
<p>“It’s me! I swear! You have to help me!”</p>
<p>Because Jean’s hopes had just soared into the stratosphere. Matt could get her out of here. Back home! Maybe he could even take her to Atlantis! They’d know how to help.</p>
<p>The Voice in her mind practically <em>purred</em> at the idea.</p>
<p>“Daredevil? You know this girl?” Logan asked hesitantly.</p>
<p>“I… Yes, I do. But what happened to you? And what the hell are you doing here?”</p>
<p>Jean breathed her first sigh of relief in a long while, launching into a desperate and rushed retelling of everything that had happened to her over the past days.</p>
<p>When she finished, Matt and Logan both sat back in a sort of daze.</p>
<p>“The Phoenix… I saw the news, but I didn’t think…” Matt muttered.</p>
<p>“Phoenix?” Jean asked, “You know what this thing is? What it did to me?”</p>
<p>Matt furrowed his brow, grabbing Jean’s untouched drink and taking a sip.</p>
<p>“Sort of. It’s one of the Enigma Forces; the powers that govern the Universe. Voldemort used one of them to almost destroy the world; another one powers Atlantis. But I don’t know why it would do this to you.”</p>
<p>“Phoenix…” Logan whispered, rubbing his head as if in pain. His beer bottle was drained.</p>
<p>“I… I’ve… I <em>know</em> that word…”</p>
<p>Matt swallowed, then fished inside his pocket for some money. He paid for the drinks and stood up, offering a hand to help her. Jean, unthinking, took it gladly.</p>
<p>“Can you get me home?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Matt said, nodding to himself. “But, I think you need to go to Atlantis. If anyone can help you with this, it’s Harry and Ginny.”</p>
<p>He didn’t look anywhere near as pleased with this as Jean was. The Voice <em>loved </em>the idea, sending rhythms of ticking heat through Jean’s entire body.</p>
<p>Logan shook himself and stood up as well.</p>
<p>“You sure about this? The Imperial Police are looking for her; entering Solitude the way she did, if our spy caught her, theirs certainly did. Bringing her in could jeopardise our whole operation.”</p>
<p>Jean almost panicked. Bring her into what? For the first time, she thought to wonder about why Mathew Murdock was in Solitude at all.</p>
<p>“We take her in. No question. She’s telling the truth; and even if we weren’t in the business of helping people, there’s no way in hell I’m letting the Imperial Police get their hands on an Enigma Force.”</p>
<p>Jean bit the questions that bubbled up on her tongue. She was getting what she wanted, and she had a feeling this was her only chance.</p>
<p>“Alright bub. Your call,” Logan said. Gently, Matt and Logan led her towards the door, but all Jean could focus on was the pleased thrumming of the Voice… the <em>Phoenix</em>… in the back of her mind.</p>
<p>Why did she have the feeling the creature had just gotten <em>exactly</em> what it wanted?</p>

<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Atlantis, the North Atlantic Ocean</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 17th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Harry apparated into Hermione’s lab in Atlantis with a thunderous crack and a murderous gaze.</p>
<p>“Hermione Jean Granger what the <em>hell</em> do you think you’re doing!??”</p>
<p>His oldest friend was sitting crouched over her desk in a lab-coat, writing frantically on a ruler lined notebook.</p>
<p>“Not now, Harry, I’m working,” she said in an automatic response. Two flip-phones were sitting open on the desk beside her, and a voice echoed through one of them.</p>
<p><em>“The math checks out,”</em> answered a man with a haughty and clipped tone Harry didn’t know, <em>“though the energy output is off the charts. You’d never be able to build a device capable of containing the overflow… at least, not without a Neutron Star to power it.”</em></p>
<p>“I know that Dr Cooper,” Hermione answered shortly, “it’s a thought experiment.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, in that case, congratulations. You have indeed determined a potential theoretical apparatus for testing the validity of potential extra dimensions of space-time. Of course, you’ll never be able to test it, so your discovery is ultimately pointless. Have a nice day.”</em>
</p>
<p>Then he hung up.</p>
<p>“Hermione…” Harry began again, but Hermione made a shushing motion with her hand as she turned to the other phone.</p>
<p>“You hear that, Pete?”</p>
<p>No answer.</p>
<p>“Peter?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah. Yeah, I heard. I’m glad your math is right. Maybe a ZPM could do what you’re suggesting but… you have to be careful, Mione. I’ve just come from a universe where someone tried to build a device like the one you’re describing. It didn’t work out well for him.”</em>
</p>
<p>The conversation fell awkwardly silent for a few moments before Peter spoke up again.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hermione, I have to go. Yuri just called me. Her people are moving on Fisk Tower right now. If I don’t move, he’ll get away again.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Go, Pete,” she whispered. “Go save the day.”</p>
<p>The line went blank, and Harry stepped up to Hermione’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Hermione, you shouldn’t be out of bed. The docs didn’t clear you.”</p>
<p>She groaned and leaned into Harry’s shoulder, bushy brown hair flaring out around her.</p>
<p>“I can’t figure out what happened to Claire and the other missing SHIELD agents,” she said softly, looking down at her notebook, which was covered in equations.</p>
<p>“They must have been sucked through the Window like Peter, but he was lucky to find a way back on the other side. The Window <em>closed</em> behind him. I don’t know what that means for the others. The data suggests we created some sort of Perpendicularity leading out across the Multiverse; they could be <em>anywhere</em>. But with the door closed… I don’t think they can come back until we open it again. I’ve been pouring over the data, trying to figure out what went wrong… I thought maybe my math was wrong, but Dr Cooper, he’s a theoretical physicist at Caltech who studies string theory, confirmed my hypothesis. Reopening the Window would require enough energy to power a <em>star</em>.”</p>
<p>Harry gritted his teeth and started rubbing her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Hermione… you almost blasted your soul out of your body, <em>completely</em> depleted your magic. You <em>have</em> to go back to the infirmary.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you get it, Harry?” she asked, though there was no anger in her voice. Just… tiredness.</p>
<p>“Get what?”</p>
<p>“Claire is out there somewhere. Thrown gods know how far into the Orrery of Worlds, and I can’t bring her back. Can’t even open the door for her. Just another life Hermione Granger has ruined.”</p>
<p>“You haven’t ruined any lives, Hermione…”</p>
<p>“Tell that to little Jean Grey. She’s gods knows where now; possessed by an Enigma Force we barely understand. Tell it to Luna, who left because I turned her into some sort of eldritch monster. Tell it to my parents Harry, who want nothing to do with me and wish I’d never woke them from the illusion life I created after I <em>wiped</em> their memories.”</p>
<p>She looked up at him with then, and Harry finally saw the red puffy skin around her eyes and the tear stains on her cheeks. He tried to think of something to say, something to assure her none of this was her fault. That the blame lay on Voldemort, and Voldemort alone. But he still woke up from his own nightmares; memories of the things he’d done and the people he’d killed. Directly and indirectly. It was in those moments, when the dead eyes of Susan Bones looked back at him, when he remembered the laughter of Remus and Sirius, or when Jessica’s image burned itself into the backs of his eyes, that he felt like the biggest hypocrite in existence.</p>
<p>“Mione… you need to go back to the infirmary.”</p>
<p>She took a long breath as if to protest again, but eventually gave in, letting Harry guide her towards the door.</p>
<p>“Okay. But if the Phoenix resurfaces, I’m going to be there, Harry. I owe Claire and Reed and the others that much. Luna used the Source to reseal the Great Destroyer into the Dark Multiverse. I’m strong enough to sucker punch a giant firebird.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Peter, MJ and Miles storylines continue in <span class="u">Marvel’s Spider-Man and Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales</span>; both available now on PlayStation 4 and 5. Just assume Peter and Miles already know each other ;)</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Harry skid to a stop in his rooms in Atlantis, taking a few deep breathes to absorb the comforting smell of pinewood and disperse his adrenaline. Though in reality, the walls were all the same coppery red as the other rooms in the City, Mrs Weasley had worked with Percy, Bill and the twins to transfigure the walls to resemble the ramshackle wooden style of the Burrow. It was her wedding present, and Harry and Ginny loved it. The furniture was likewise a mixture of the Burrow’s aesthetic, and things from the Home – the refuge Lily and the Marauders had left behind. They didn’t use it much anymore since the secret had been discovered. Instead, it functioned more as a refuge or halfway house. Or a place to get away from everything. Ginny liked to take time off from her role as the de facto ruler of the City by retreating to the Home on her own and just flying around the Quidditch pitch.</p>
<p>Harry followed the sound of crying through the living room and past the large open window looking out over the churning ocean. A storm raged beyond the city shield tonight. It fit Harry’s mood to a tee.</p>
<p>The cries led him down the side hall and into the girls’ bedroom. Ginny was sitting on Jessica’s bed, cradling her back and forth as she sobbed into her shirt. Jessica’s little sister Lily sat beside them, desperately gripping Jessica’s hand.</p>
<p>That picture alone threatened to shatter him to pieces.</p>
<p>Lily and Jessica were perfectly identical twins. Both had Harry’s green eyes, Ginny’s golden-red hair and body, and the combined intelligence of both parents. They seemed far too smart for their ages, and they’d already started playing tricks on people by switching identities. They’d yet to fool Harry, though not for lack of trying. The secret was that Lily had developed a habit of crinkling her eyes when she lied, while Jessica was better at keeping a straight face.</p>
<p>Right now, Jess wasn’t playing any tricks. Her tiny, pale arms were covered in small blotches like scale marks, and her eyes and nose were bright red.</p>
<p>Dragonpox.</p>
<p>“Daddy!” Lily exclaimed, jumping off the bed and rushing over to him. He bent down just in time to catch her as she leapt into his arms, burying teary eyes in his shirt.</p>
<p>“Is Jessy going to be okay?”</p>
<p>“She’ll be okay, firecracker,” Harry whispered, running a hand through her hair as Ginny continued to cradle Jessica as she broke into a fit of coughing. Thank the gods beyond, but that was a good sign. All the nurses said that the coughing was the last phase, and that the swelling should go down in a few hours.</p>
<p>But those hours were by far the most painful. Harry was just grateful it wasn’t contagious.</p>
<p>Ginny sent him a tired smile as Harry sat down on the bed beside her and pressed a kiss to Jessica’s head. Lily, red-rings around her own eyes, reached out and took her sister’s hand in her own, squeezing for all she was worth.</p>
<p>“Daddy please,” Lily begged, though she didn’t lift her head from his shirt, so the words came out muffled. “Please <em>help</em>. I’ll… I’ll do anything. I’ll stop pulling Jessy’s hair, and hiding her unicorn. I promise! Just… just make the bad pain go away.”</p>
<p>Harry swallowed. Hard.</p>
<p>“Jess will be okay, sweetheart. It’s almost over now. We just have to wait.”</p>
<p>He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream at the heavens. Wanted to resurrect Voldemort’s god-damned corpse and rip him to shreds or go off-world and blast a Goa’uld <em>Ha’tak </em>to scrap.</p>
<p>He did none of that.</p>
<p>Everyone said that Dragonpox was not fatal, and was something most wizarding children suffered at some point. What everyone said provided little comfort as he watched his little girl cry.</p>
<p>But he could do nothing but sit there with his girls and hold them. Until, several hours later, when Lily finally fell asleep, still holding her sister’s hand, and Jessica’s cries faded to a soft weeping.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>Authors Notes:</strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Exciting news, guys. </strong>We’re in talks with someone who wants to do Gemini Curse as a podfic/audiobook (final format to be determined). We’ll keep you guys up to date on developments. As a result, we’re thinking about putting together a Twitter page for updates, questions and scheduling purposes. Would any of you guys be interested in that kind of thing, or should we just keep to FF and archive? We’ve never done anything like a social media presence before, so any advice our fantastic audience could give would be greatly appreciated.</p>
<p>Apologies for the lack of updates this last week. Exams suck, and 2020 is the year that just keeps on giving, as Miracle has just had an emergency <em>root canal.</em> Fun. Fortunately, my mother is mostly on the mend after her surgery, and beta reads on our original novel are finishing up.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Current plans:</strong>
</p>
<p>Betas on our <em>original novel</em> will be back mid-December, so January will be the final revision for that book and maybe starting on the next one.</p>
<p><strong>Post </strong><em>Blessing Act II </em>and the next <em>A Song of Snows and Waters </em>by the end of November.</p>
<p><strong>Finish</strong> writing <em>Blessing Act III</em> and <em>Lost Daughter</em> by mid-December for a Christmas to New Years publication window.</p>
<p><strong>Start </strong>Red Daughter storyline for <em>Crisis</em> at the end of November for a pre-Christmas release.</p>
<p><strong>Updates</strong> for <em>Tales from the Shadowed Abyss</em> and <em>A Song of Snows and Waters</em> will be more sporadic but should be one every two to three weeks.</p>
<p><strong>Revision. Maybe, </strong>if a Gemini Podfic/audio does happen, we’ll take the time to go back through the earlier chapters of Gemini Curse and revise them for spelling, grammar, speech and plot consistency. Don’t expect it soon though, and its contingent on 2021 not sucking as much as 2020.</p>
<p>Love, Ghost and Miracle.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Act II, Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Act II, Chapter 3: The Heavenly City</h1>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Kun Lun, the Seventh Heavenly City of the Cosmos</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“I’ve got it!” Kamala shouted, rushing up a set of spiralling stairs etched into the side of Kun Lun’s library tower.</p>
<p>Luke thought the ‘Heavenly City’ certainly deserved They’d been here for two days now, and he still wasn’t sure if he was on a magical mountain or a cloud that just looked like it. The ground, usually simple dirt, sometimes <em>evaporated</em>, becoming transparent and wispy. But you could still walk on the mist, and the ground reformed after a few minutes. The city itself was not unlike what he’d expected: a massive castle with numerous smaller settlements inside, all done in the style of ancient Chinese buildings he’d seen in photos. It was undoubtedly majestic though, and the sunrises were truly spectacular.</p>
<p>Kamala reached the landing where Danny and Luke sat across from one another on a bamboo rug, reading through history tomes, searching for any reference to the Phoenix Force.</p>
<p>“You found it?”</p>
<p>Deeper within the rows upon rows of ancient scrolls and manuscripts that comprised the library, two monks turned towards them and made gestures of silence. Luke resisted the urge to make an obscene gesture at them.</p>
<p>Kamala placed a weathered manuscript bound in hogs hide on the table, turning carefully to a page depicting a woman wreathed in flames.</p>
<p>“There was an Iron Fist in the past who hosted the Phoenix,” Kamala said.</p>
<p>Danny’s eyes shot open, and he grabbed the cup of coffee sitting on the stone beside him, downing the remains in one gulp. He winced at the heat, then shook his head.</p>
<p>“How?”</p>
<p>“Apparently one of the monks here had a prophetic dream about a young girl who’s the spitting image of our dead Jean Grey and set out to collect her. The girl, Wu Fongji, was trained and became the Iron Fist. When the Phoenix came to Earth as the monk predicted, the mastery of her chi allowed her to control the being for a time, but she eventually grew unstable. So the monk sent for the Sorcerer Supreme of the time, Leonardo Da Vinci.”</p>
<p>She turned the page, which showcased a young woman who did look a lot like the photos Ginny had sent them of Jean Grey, plunging her fist into Shou-Laou’s heart, just as Danny had done.</p>
<p>“Da Vinci used the Aether Force to help Fongji temper the Phoenix’s power. Enough that her body was able to union with the Force and stabilise.”</p>
<p>“What happened to her?”</p>
<p>“The scroll says she left Earth, taking the Phoenix with her to protect the world.”</p>
<p>Danny stood up and hurtled his cup over the railing, where it sailed down, down, down, then vanished below the cloud layer.</p>
<p>“Damn it!”</p>
<p>Kamala frowned, but Luke had already realised what Danny had.</p>
<p>“What the hell was that for?” Kamala demanded.</p>
<p>“We don’t have a Sorcerer Supreme. The Vishanti haven’t appointed anyone new yet. We don’t have anyone who can use the Aether Force to force it off-world.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Right,” Kamala whispered deflating.</p>
<p>They sat in silence for several minutes, digesting yet another failure.</p>
<p>Until Luke had an idea.</p>
<p>“We don’t have a Sorcerer Supreme, but we <em>do</em> have an Iron Fist.”</p>
<p>Danny frowned.</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“This other Iron Fist girl was able to hold the power for a while before she went kaboom, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Kamala said hesitantly.</p>
<p>“That means the Iron Fist should hurt it. At least for a while. Long enough for Hermione to figure out another way to access the Aether Force.”</p>
<p>Danny stared at him for a moment, and Luke resisted the urge to look at his feet. He wasn’t an ideas man. He usually left that to others. Like Danny. Or Harry. It was probably a bad plan. He shouldn’t have said anything.</p>
<p>Then Danny began to grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Solitude, <em>Pilón Lajas</em>, Layqasuyu, South America</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 16th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Jean’s jaw fell open as Matt and Logan led her down a staircase hidden inside a storm drain. Down and down the spiral staircase they went, in complete and total darkness, and it took several minutes – Matt’s hand on her shoulder – until they reached a steel reinforced door at the bottom of the drain. Logan tapped a passcode on the door, and a small grate slid open, revealing a set of eyes, one green, one grey.</p>
<p>“Sugars, you better get inside.”</p>
<p>The woman has a very distinct southern drawl, and she slid the grate closed with a clang, before undoing several locks on the other side on opening the door.</p>
<p>It was an underground bunker, like an old military hanger, about the size of a football field but sectioned off into several different areas by walls and curtains. A metal gangway ran a ring around the facility, providing access to dingy electric lights hanging from the roof – most of them had turned yellow with age. A communal space had been set up in the centre of the room around a well, comprised of several ratty couches set around a large fire pit and a few old wooden tables. However, on the far side of the bunker was a display screen with dozens of computer terminals and keyboards that looked <em>very</em> out of place with the rest of the crude space.</p>
<p>“What’s happened, Rogue?” Logan asked in his gruff voice as Matt led Jean along the metal gangway to a set of stairs.</p>
<p>“We’ve got reports of the Imperial Police marching through the entrance district. Looking for a <em>white woman</em> with red hair.”</p>
<p>Jean didn’t think her new body was capable of getting cold, but she shivered anyway.</p>
<p>“Damn,” Matt muttered.</p>
<p>“What is this place?” Jean asked, trying to calm her racing heart. How were they going to get her out of here?</p>
<p>They started down the metal staircase, and Matt pointed to the bunker floor. It was packed with people and sleeping bags, some ragged and desperate, others not so. Young people, old people, both westerners and locals.</p>
<p>“We’re a smuggling unit. We move people between the Alliance and the Concordat, protect people with powers they don’t understand from the eyes of watchdogs and the like.”</p>
<p>“Watchdogs?”</p>
<p>Logan grunted. “SHIELD, Hydra. They’re always looking for more people with powers, unnatural abilities – magical or otherwise.”</p>
<p>“My husband, Remy, he runs the other side of our network back home in New Orleans,” Rogue said, smiling at her and wrapping an arm around Jean’s shoulders. The woman wore thick white gloves on her hands and had a streak of white in her otherwise lustrous brown hair. “I move the people in between, and Logan runs this end.”</p>
<p>“Have since this whole war mess started. I’ve been around a long time… not really sure how long.” He scratched his hair again. “But I was down here, looking for something when everything went to shit. Helped some people get out. Been here ever since. Got quite the enterprise going now.”</p>
<p>They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Matt led them down a winding path between sleeping bags and people.</p>
<p>“Why are you here, then?” Jean asked the former Defender, “I spoke to Maisie not long ago. She’s devastated. Why haven’t you gone home?”</p>
<p>Matt flinched at the mention of his sister but didn’t answer her.</p>
<p>They approached the wall of screens and computers, and Jean fixated her gaze on another woman standing there. Long ashen black locks, the figure of a Greek goddess, and a tattoo of a scorpion visible across her neck and breasts… that must have seriously hurt.</p>
<p><em>‘It is a rune. Scorpius. Rune of Awareness.</em>’ The Phoenix said.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you want to do this Mathew?” the woman asked as they approached. “Contact Atlantis? We’ve done such a good job of staying off SHIELD’s radar for so long…”</p>
<p>“Harry and Ginny won’t turn us over,” Matt said firmly, pulling off his glasses to reveal brown eyes that didn’t move or react to the light.</p>
<p>“They might. You haven’t spoken to them in a long time.”</p>
<p>Matt let out a long breath. Logan and Rogue seemed happy to follow his lead.</p>
<p>“We don’t have a choice,” he eventually said, “An Enigma Force trumps everything else. Elektra, call them.”</p>
<p>Elektra looked like she disagreed, but did as Matt asked and started typing at one of the computers.</p>
<p>A few moments of silence reigned over the group, until the main screen chimed, fuzzing into a picture of a woman with wavy dirty-brown hair.</p>
<p>
  <em>“How did you get this frequency… Matt!!!”</em>
</p>
<p>“Hi Lavender,” Matt said awkwardly. “Is the General there? Or Firefly?”</p>
<p>Lavender bolted from the screen, leaving a swivelling chair in her wake, screaming for Ginny to, quote ‘get her baby-making ass to the Bridge immediately.’ Rogue and Logan immediately cracked up laughing</p>
<p>Several more moments passed, and Jean had to resist the urge to bounce on her toes in anticipation.</p>
<p>A woman with fiery red-hair, significantly more orange, than Jean’s own locks, appeared on screen, jaw slack. In her arms was a young girl of perhaps three or four, with the same colour hair but vivid green eyes and a mischievous face.</p>
<p>
  <em>“MATHEW FUCKING MURDOCK WHERE THE IN ALL THE MOTHERFUCKING PLAINS OF OBLIVION HAVE YOU BEEN!!!!” </em>
</p>
<p>Everyone on Jean’s side of the screen winced. The little girl, on the other hand, started clapping.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Mamma said a bad word! Mamma said a bad word!”</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>Murdock, you get your fucking ass to my city immediately, or I’m going to trace this call, and drone strike the hell out of where ever it is your hiding, then grab you myself and drag you back here to answer to your sister and father. Not to mention your best friends, whom you’ve been ignoring for years!”</em></p>
<p>“Ginny!!” Matt shouted, interrupting Ginny Potter’s tirade. No wonder this woman had defeated Voldemort. She was <em>amazing</em>!!!!! The Phoenix, warmth flaring in Jean’s breast, agreed wholeheartedly.</p>
<p>“I have the Phoenix.”</p>
<p>Ginny blinked.</p>
<p>
  <em>“You have it?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Yes. And the girl its bonded too. Jean Grey.”</p>
<p>Ginny released a long breath.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Is she okay?”</em>
</p>
<p>Jean stepped up to the screen at Matt’s beckoning, waving awkwardly.</p>
<p>“Hi.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Jean. My gods, it’s good to see you alive. Are you alright? You’re… older. That’s new, though the Dragons could do that I suppose. Are you… is it speaking to you?”</em>
</p>
<p>Jean, repressing a wave of panic, shook her head. She didn’t want Ginny Potter thinking Jean was unstable, or not strong enough. This woman was a legend.</p>
<p>The little girl, her daughter, started tugging a lock of her hair.</p>
<p>“Gin, can you bring her to Atlantis? We’re in Layqasuyu. If someone finds her here…”</p>
<p><em>“Not good,” </em>Ginny agreed.<em> “But I can’t bring her to Atlantis. The Phoenix came after Harry and I first, if we bring it near us, it could damage the city, and I won’t let that happen… Maybe Citadel could handle it though. The Tamaraneans might know more about this than we do. If we can get it off-world…”</em></p>
<p>She trailed off, staring at Jean quizzically.</p>
<p><em>“I’ll call you back in an hour. I need to run this by Hermione, Flitwick and the nerds, see what they think. But Murdock, if you vanish again, I will hunt you down and kick your ass so hard you’ll be wishing you made a Horcrux by the time I’m done with you.”</em> The screen fizzled out, and Matt let out a long breath, grabbing hold of a desk.</p>
<p>Jean, on the other hand, was slightly panicking. The Phoenix had gone after Ginny and Harry first? Its desire for Jean to contact Atlantis suddenly made perfect sense. Ginny’s fears were entirely justified.</p>
<p>Jean was just a stop-gap measure. This thing didn’t want her. It was using her.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘You liar!’</em>
</p>
<p><em>‘You are weak in this world!’ </em>The Phoenix snapped back. <em>‘Not even a mutant or a wizard! But our connection to your other selves was enough for a connection here. But Her. Ginevra Potter and Harry Potter. They have held true power in their hands. Faced down the Nether Force! They are perfect! You are temporary, and will be treated as such.’</em></p>
<p>Jean tried to speak up. To tell Matt and Logan and Rogue what she’d learned. But her mouth wouldn’t open. No matter how hard she tried.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘We placed you here so they might find you and bring you to them. But you’ve failed even at that. Now, drastic measures will be taken.’</em>
</p>
<p>In an instant, her new body betrayed her, and Jean was thrown into the proverbial backseat. The world around her dissolved into a void of pure white, like the burning sensation of endless flames. All she had was a single window looking out through her eyes.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘THIS IS THE WHITE-HOT ROOM, JEAN GREY. THE RESERVOIR OF THE PHOENIX FORCE. HERE YOU WILL REMAIN UNTIL WE CLAIM OUR PRIZE. IF THE POTTERS WILL NOT LET US INTO ATLANTIS, WE WILL MAKE THEM COME TO US.’</em>
</p>
<p>“Jean? Are you alright? You went all stiff there for a second,” Logan asked from outside the void where Jean floated, suspended, trapped in her own mind.</p>
<p>“Yeah. I’m fine. Just. Everything, I guess. I’m going to take a walk. Where’s the bathroom?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“No! Logan! It’s not me!!!!”</em>
</p>
<p>He couldn’t hear her.</p>
<p>Logan pointed to a room on the far side of the bunker, and the Phoenix turned Jean’s body and walked through the maze of sleeping tents towards it.</p>
<p>The second she was out of eyeshot, she dissolved Jean’s body into twin tongues of fire, and vanished.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Let me out!!! You can’t do this!”</em>
</p>
<p>The Phoenix reformed in the marketplace where Jean had entered Solitude earlier that day. True to Rogue’s word, dozens of police were knocking on doors, showing pictures of her.</p>
<p>“Here I am!” The Phoenix shouted with Jean’s voice, and all the guards turned towards her, drawing wands, black uniforms reflecting the moonlight.</p>
<p>“Come and get me.”</p>
<p>Jean’s body blazed with fire, and she shot into the air, wreathed in flickering flames. Then they exploded outwards, setting the entire district ablaze.</p>
<p>
  <em>“no…”</em>
</p>
<p>Screams filled the night, explosions detonating in houses as gas lamps and fireplaces ignited under the sudden magical inferno, and the Phoenix revelled in the destruction.</p>
<p>But this wasn’t enough for it. Not enough to bring Harry and Ginny out of their hideaway.</p>
<p>It needed something bigger. The Phoenix turned Jean’s body towards the west and the Pacific Ocean in the far distance. Across that ocean was a city, Alcheringa. Capital of the Federation, which was in a cold war with the Layqasuyu. Setting both cities aflame would certainly <em>heat</em> things up.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh, holy God and Merlin above. Please no.”</em>
</p>
<p>The Phoenix ignored her, taking Jean’s body, and rocketing towards Alcheringa at the speed of sound.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Act II, Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Act II, Chapter 4: Fires of God</h1><p>Harry stared at the screen in front of him in horror as the blip of red light representing the Phoenix Force shot across the Pacific. Ginny’s satellites and SHIELD’s were both pointed at the thing, watching in real-time as it soared over the islands. It was about to rocket past Fiji, and a few minutes after that, it would collide with Alcheringa.</p><p>Nobody was under the impression the Ward Stones around the island’s perimeter would do anything to stop it.</p><p>“GINNY!!! HURRY!!!” he screamed. Lavender, who was standing beside him with one hand over her mouth and another gripping his shoulder in a vice, started hyperventilating.</p><p>“Harry,” Daphne whispered from his other side, face deathly pale, “If that thing hits Alcheringa… the war is going to <em>explode</em>…”</p><p>“I want President Isley out of the City now. Start an evacuation immediately,” Harry said, using all his willpower to stop his voice from cracking. He glanced across the Bridge to Ginny, seated in the City’s control chair, eyes closed as she was bathed in white light from the ceiling.</p><p>Six new blips appeared on screen, gold, and locked onto the Phoenix’s course. Drones, the City’s primary defence system. There was no way for them to circle the globe in time – so Ginny had sent them into space and used the curvature of the Earth to literally half the travel time.</p><p>“Collision in ten seconds!” Ginny called.</p><p>On the ground floor below them, Neville and Demelza were already suited up and preparing a strike team of Wizards that had been in the City. There weren’t many. Just Jack Murdock – the City’s Chief of Defence and Matt’s father, Astoria, Eloise and Katie Bell, who had been visiting to help with the girls and try again to get Ginny and Harry to start their own Atlantis Quidditch team. The rest of the Defenders Army were all scattered across the world. Flitwick and their science team were still in Britain, and their nation was too small for a dedicated security force. The City was impenetrable, they didn’t need one.</p><p>Perhaps that was a slight oversight on his part.</p><p>“2, 1…”</p><p>The golden blips collided with the red, and all of them vanished from view. Harry, Daphne and Lavender all stared at the satellite feed of the Fijian islands, watching as a mushroom cloud ripped through the air.</p><p>Then the Phoenix blasted free of the fireball and continued on its path. The red blip returned to their screens.</p><p>“Harry! I’ve finally got Peter on the line!” Colin called, breaking the silence that had descended on the room.</p><p>Harry turned away from the screen, rushing over to Colin’s desk.</p><p>“Peter! The Phoenix is heading for Alcheringa, we need Spider-Man…”</p><p>“<em>Awful time guys!!!”</em></p><p>Peter cursed as the sound of an explosion rumbled across the connection.</p><p>
  <em>“Martin! You can still stop this!”</em>
</p><p>“Peter, what’s going on…”</p><p>
  <em>“Just a guy powered by anti-magic trying to unleash a deadly plague on New York City. I’m sor…”</em>
</p><p>Another detonation, the line crackled, then went instantly dead.</p><p>Harry was now seriously panicking.</p><p>“Lavender, call T’Challa. Now.”</p><p>Lavender nodded, then began typing rapidly into her computer. The Phoenix had reached New Caledonia…</p><p>
  <em>“Harry?”</em>
</p><p>T’Challa’s face appeared on the holoscreen. He was standing in Shuri’s lab, and the genius girl herself was standing a short distance behind him, scowling.</p><p>“We need the Black Panther. Fast.”</p><p>T’Challa hesitated for only a moment.</p><p>
  <em>“Send me a Gateway.”</em>
</p><p>They ended the call as Shuri started yelling behind him, and Harry gestured for Lavender to do just that. Another six drones crashed into the Phoenix as it reached the border of the Alcheringan Atolls, and had even less of an effect. Ginny cursed, sitting upright, jaw clenched.</p><p>“We’ve got to go after this thing,” she hissed before jumping upright and storming towards the Gateway.</p><p>“Gin, we <em>can’t</em>!” Harry said, rushing over and grabbing her arm. “That’s exactly what it wants.”</p><p>“You can’t,” a new voice said, and the Potters spun around to see Hermione step out of the elevator and onto the Bridge. She had forgone the Ancient Armour for her old red Defenders Cloak, and her body was haloed in white light.</p><p>“But I can.”</p><p>“Hermione wait…”</p><p>But she didn’t listen. She just ripped open a hole in reality and stepped through, sealing it instantly behind her.</p><hr/><p>Hermione stepped out of her rift atop the Central Tower of Alcheringa. The tower, based on a painting found by the Mer at the bottom of the ocean ages before Atlantis had been rediscovered, was a perfect external replica of the one in the City. The roof was a flat space, the tallest point on the island metropolis, railings around the edge. However, where Atlantis’s rooftop was empty, this one had been turned into an elaborate garden surrounding a single eucalyptus tree. A couple were sitting beneath the tree, kissing softly.</p><p>Their moment was entirely ruined by Hermione’s arrival. She might have laughed if she wasn’t feeling so utterly empty inside.</p><p>Because Hermione Granger, genius, scientist, scholar and inventor, had no idea what to do next.</p><p>“Get out of here. As fast as you can!” She exclaimed as the two women jolted apart with embarrassed expressions. Not a second after she spoke, alarms started blaring through the city below them, great watchtowers flashing red beacons.</p><p>The sky over the ocean started rippling like water, then, with a tremendous concussive <em>BOOM</em>, the Phoenix crashed through Alcheringa’s wards and shot towards the heart of the city.</p><p>The two lovers instantly entangled away, bursting into golden dust.</p><p>Hermione took a deep breath, then lifted herself up into the air, pulling as deeply at the Source as she could. That silver light forever over her shoulder pulsed brighter than the moon overhead, pouring the power of creation into her very blood. It suffused her core, her skin, her bones, and as it did so, it expanded her mind, letting her understand and experience the world around her as no mortal could ever dream of.</p><p>The Phoenix became aware of her immediately, and the cosmic firebird veered off course, straight towards her.</p><p>It screeched into the night, reared up and blasted her with a wave of pure unbridled flame.</p><p>Hermione didn’t make a single motion as she cooled the atoms back to ordinary temperatures, and the torrent of fire vanished into nothing.</p><p>Her turn.</p><p>Raising a single hand, Hermione concentrated not on the firebird before her, but on the cosmic entity behind it. The <em>Phoenix Force</em> itself. Like when Hermione had perceived Voldemort’s Nether Force, she could see the creature’s purpose and design. Its thirst for destruction and genuine desire to burn the world to the ground. But she could feel no real <em>malice</em> behind it. The Phoenix was doing what it was born too: destroy, and use that devastation to start anew. It was an entity of rebirth, just as the Nether Force had been a reservoir of eternal evil and corruption.</p><p>But the Phoenix was <em>different</em> in a single, fundamental way, she realised.</p><p>Two minds were driving this Force.</p><p>The Nether Force had been Tom Riddle’s to wield, even as it tainted his body and mind, warping and killing him. The Phoenix Force had its own conscious, a will of its own. One that was, even now, waring against the will of the person it had latched onto.</p><p>Hermione could see Jean Grey.</p><p>The Phoenix tried to attack her again, but Hermione dismissed its fire with a distracted wave.</p><p>Could she split them apart? The Phoenix was a well of power, it couldn’t act without a host. Perhaps, if she dispelled it from the girl, it would return to its reservoir waiting for the universe to grow near its end.</p><p>And the emptiness, the guilt she carried for setting this thing on the world, for adding Jean Grey to the list of people whose lives she’d destroyed, might abate.</p><p>The Phoenix heard Hermione’s thought and <em>pounced</em> upon it.</p><p>It launched another attack, but this time, instead of trying to burn her to a crisp, it assaulted her mind. Tendrils of flame lashed out at her, sheering through her Occlumency shields like paper, reaching into her brain to pull out the memories that lingered there, ripping at her conscious every day.</p><p>Her tether to the Source wavered.</p><p>Memory after memory the bird threw at her. Of doing nothing as Voldemort killed Professor Dumbledore in front of her. Of Gwen Stacy’s dead body lying on the Brooklyn bridge. Jessica’s body ripped to atoms in the Room of Requirement’s destruction. Wiping her parent’s memories. Claire and the SHIELD personnel still missing.</p><p>Of Ron Weasley, throwing himself into the Killing Curse to save her life.</p><p>What a pathetic life to save.</p><p>Hermione Granger was a failure at life, a failure of a human being.</p><p>She didn’t deserve to wield the power of creation.</p><p>And so she didn’t.</p><p>The link between Hermione and Source <em>snapped</em>, and she fell from the sky, powerless.</p><p>Because what Hermione had refused to tell anyone, even Harry and Ginny, was that as she’d grown more and more reliant on the Source, her ordinary magical abilities had been fading away. In part, that was why she was so desperate to understand what it was and recreate her original experiment.</p><p>So she plummeted through the air, dropped like a puppet from a string, and all she could think of was that at least now she couldn’t ruin more lives.</p><p>And as she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable, cloak whipping around her, the Phoenix grabbed the side of Alcheringa’s Central Tower and <em>ripped</em> it apart.</p><p>She was too far gone to notice when soft hands grabbed her out of the air.</p><hr/><p>Harry stepped out of the Gateway flanked by his Defenders and the Black Panther, suited up and ready. What they found was a war zone.</p><p>People screamed and alarms blared out across the city as the Phoenix hovered over the rubble of Alcheringa’s Tower: a giant wall of flame shaped like a bird with wings that blotted out the entire horizon, eyes of blazing gold. Each moment it lashed out with its wings or talons, destroying yet another building, making dominos of skyscrapers. All around them, people were trying to dig through the rubble, levitating or banishing debris to find their friends. Others ran out of the still-standing buildings, grabbing onto people to entangle away or disapparate.</p><p>
  <em>“Harry, Ginny, I have President Isley and General Hobbs…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ginny? Are you there? What’s happening!?”</em>
</p><p>Hell. That’s what was happening. Where was Hermione?</p><p>“I’m here, Pamela,” Ginny whispered back to the young President. “And we’re going to get this thing out of your city.”</p><p><em>“Guys, the Concordat is already pledging forces, and General Hobbs is on the horn with the FPA,” </em>Daphne narrated to them as they watched the Phoenix destroy yet another building.</p><p>
  <em>“The closest Hyperspace Cruisers are preparing to jump back to Alcheringa with their Sea-Dragon Squadrons…”</em>
</p><p>“No,” Harry snapped, hand flashing to his ear, “Tell them all to stay away. They’ll just be cannon fodder to this thing. Get them ready to receive refugees, and we need as many triage nurses and mediwitches as you can round up. Get them en route to the Rocks as fast as possible. We have to prevent the wizards from spilling out into Sydney or the nearby countries.”</p><p>“What about Layqasuyu? Any statement from Solitude?” Ginny asked.</p><p>
  <em>“Not yet, I’ll keep you posted… Somethings… you’ve got incoming on your six!”</em>
</p><p>The team of Defenders spun around just in time to see a Quinjet fly straight through the protective wards, zooming straight towards the Phoenix.</p><p>“Gin can you…”</p><p>“Already on it,” Ginny said, helmet forming around her. A second later, static started crackling in his ear, which then formed into a voice he knew only too well.</p><p><em>“Director, you want me to fly right at that thing?” </em>Agent Clint Barton, Hawkeye.</p><p>
  <em>“Sweep past it, there should be a girl in there somewhere. If we can get her out of the storm, we might be able to stop this.”</em>
</p><p>“Roger that Director,” Ginny said, the group watching as the Director’s Quinjet banked to the right and began to whip around the Phoenix.</p><p>
  <em>“Potter. I thought you were not supposed to be here?”</em>
</p><p>“Didn’t have much of a choice,” she said. “We’ll approach from below, see if we can use magic to separate Jean from the Phoenix. And Fury… try not to die.”</p><p>Fury huffed, and Barton answered.</p><p>
  <em>“Will do Mrs Potter. I don’t fancy being a bug on a windshield any more than the next guy. That and Romanoff would certainly kick my ass.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Yes, I would.”</em> Came the disgruntled voice of the aforementioned agent, and Harry chuckled softly under his breath.</p><p>“Okay everyone,” Harry called to the team. Fan out. Dem, Neville, two teams, evacuate as many people as you can.”</p><p>“Where do you want me?” T’Challa asked.</p><p>Harry narrowed his eyes at the giant bird and was secretly glad to have the Prince on his side again, even if it was only temporary.</p><p>“We’re going to figure out how to punch that thing.”</p><hr/><p>Kara dropped to the sandbank, heavy breathing as she looked up at the giant magical firebird hovering over the city. Gently, she laid the brown-haired woman she’d caught down on the sand, and looked her over for any injuries. She <em>seemed</em> fine at least, and Kara had gotten quite good at spotting problem wounds over the years, even if she had never suffered one.</p><p>What had this woman been doing? Kara had seen her bathed in white light atop the tower, fighting off the creature somehow. But then her power had just… vanished, for some reason.</p><p>The woman was still breathing, and with the bird still screeching as it laid waste to the city, Kara had bigger issues to deal with. She’d learnt the hard way that her invulnerability didn’t extend to protection against spells and other forms of magic, so, unfortunately, there would be no punching the firebird thing. So, helping people out of the wreckage was the next best option until some more qualified sorcerers came up with a plan…</p><p>Even as she had the thought, three people raced down the highway that ran adjacent to the river. Not away from the bird, but towards it. A red-orange haired woman and a black-haired man wearing the white armour of Atlantis, and… yep, that was the Black Panther himself, protector of Wakanda.</p><p>Excellent. Heroes always ran towards danger; which meant those three were just who Kara needed right now. Hopefully, they could explain what she could do to help.</p><p>Skye was going to be <em>so</em> pissed she missed this.</p><hr/><p>Harry flipped over a flying bolder as Ginny and T’Challa slid beneath it, and the trio ducked together over a toppled overhang. The Phoenix had perched itself right over the rubble of the tower, which had sat on an island in the middle of the city. The debris were currently littering the shoreline or sinking down into the water, which was a whole other problem. Because while the island’s surface was home to the Druid city, the Mer city was inverted beneath the island. The river had no bottom, any debris that fell into it would fall down into the underwater Alcheringa and wreak havoc.</p><p>They needed to put an end to this. A gas main exploded a short distance away, and Harry and Ginny, both with helmets raised, used the sound as cover to charge across the field, T’Challa circling around them.</p><p>
  <em>Harry, we don’t have a Zodiac Circle, how are we going to dispel the Force?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We have to try.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But what’s your plan?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m really not going to like it, am I?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not in the slightest.</em>
</p><p>The duo dove into the river, hiding beneath the surface from the Phoenix’s roving eyes, and Ginny started scanning it as Harry disengaged the Ancient Armour. While Ginny would have to wear it underwater, Harry didn’t have to. Nine years ago, a Mer named Emilie, a friend of Claire’s and Neville’s future wife, had given Harry her single all-powerful Mermaid’s Kiss, which now allowed him to breath and withstand all underwater pressures.</p><p>To say that Ginny, Harry, Emilie and Neville were still awkward about the whole affair would be an understatement.</p><p>He drew his wand, ignited the tip, and began to draw a single rune on his right palm. A rune that was a mirror image of the scar that still warped Ginny’s hand to this day.</p><p>Sagittarius: Zodiac Rune of Intangibility.</p><p>Ginny did indeed not like this plan. Not in the slightest.</p><p>
  <em>No way! Stop what you’re doing right now!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s the only way I can think of to stop the damage. If I can get the Phoenix into the Mirror Dimension, maybe it will stay trapped long enough for us to draw a proper circle and dispel it like we did with Voldemort. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>… I don’t like this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know. And I’m sorry.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just remember I love you, okay?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Always.</em>
</p><p>Harry finished his rune and held his wand steady. The one problem with the Ancient Armour was that you couldn’t use runic powers while wearing it. But he still had the Firebrand aiding his reflexes, and his natural skills. Hopefully, they’d be enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'd say sorry for being late, but I'm not, as I've spent the last two weeks both continuously puking my guts out, and glued to CNN as fascists stormed the US Capitol, neither of which is very conducive to inspiration. (Full disclosure, there has also been a considerable amount of doomscrolling... What have we come to?) And my husband is stuck on like ten-hour shifts as he works to save Australia's collective google account from a bunch of dumb ass politicians, so he's no help. *sighs.</p>
<p>Now if you'll excuse me, I need to suck up some courage and pee on a stick. Toodles.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Updated Disclaimer:</h1>
<p>“How the hell are we going to get <em>inside</em> the Dark Multiverse!?” Miracle screamed, sending a nearby flock of birds scattering to the wind.</p>
<p>Gwenpool lifted a hand and started counting.</p>
<p>“Five.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know!” Ghost snapped back. “You can’t just waltz down into the Destroyer’s prison and leave again.”</p>
<p>“Four,” Gwen muttered, seriously wondering at how nobody could see this coming.</p>
<p>“We helped you get your information, we are <em>not</em> helping you go down there,” Shade demanded, standing up and stalking across the hillock with his fox daemon. He held up a hand, then jerked it down, tearing an opening back to his own world.</p>
<p>“Three.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry for your daughter Miracle,” Wonder said, owl daemon perched on her shoulder. “I really am. But if she’s been taken into the Dark… she’s already gone.”</p>
<p>Then she walked across the hillock and followed Shade through the window, which they sealed behind them.</p>
<p>“Two.”</p>
<p>“We can’t just do nothing,” Will said, grabbing a handful of snow and tossing it off the hill.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing we can do. If she’s in the Dark…” Clarissa began but was interrupted by Gwenpool, who proclaimed loudly and emphatically.</p>
<p>“One!”</p>
<p>The next second, a line of light broke the silence of the hill. The line ripped open to form a square-shaped rift, and a woman with dirty blonde hair stepped through, dressed in a ragged top and ripped jeans.</p>
<p>“Hey guys. You miss me?” Claire O’Neill, Will’s sister said, grinning like a made woman, surrounded by a halo of energy, eyes glowing white.</p>
<p>“I heard you needed a lift.”</p>
<p>Gwen grabbed Ghost and faceplanted him into the camera.</p>
<p>“Seriously? How obvious was that? You guys suck at writing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<h1> Act II, Chapter 5: LifeLight</h1>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Alcheringa, the Coral Sea</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 16th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Trapped in the abyss of white, Jean was forced to watch as the Phoenix destroyed tower after tower. Every person the creature killed, Jean could feel their souls being torn from their bodies and sent only God knew where.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘There is no God watching out for you, Jean Grey. The Creator abandoned your Multiverse long ago; only the Destroyer remains.</em>
</p>
<p>She tried swimming, moving, through the abyss of power, but nothing she did achieved even the slightest movement. Whatever this place was, Jean didn’t think it was a physical space that could be traversed.</p>
<p>‘IT IS THE WHITE-HOT ROOM. THE RESERVOIR OF REBIRTH.’</p>
<p>
  <em>“Just shut up!!!!”</em>
</p>
<p>All Jean could do was watch.</p>
<p>Until <em>he</em> appeared.</p>
<p>Jean had seen photos of Harry Potter. Who hadn’t? He was on the front page of magazines, always in the news and quoted on the Wizarding Wireless. She knew that chiselled face, the windswept black hair, the faded outline of the scar on his forehead, and the crystal green eyes. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a tiny crush on him. How could she not? He was stunning.</p>
<p>But Jean had never met him. Not until now, when he came charging out of the river, slinging spells from his wand to catch falling debris, pull people out of hiding places and force the Phoenix back.</p>
<p>And fall back it did.</p>
<p>Banishing spells, reductor curses, advanced trapping spells and runic weaves. All of them flared from the tiny figure visible out the little window the Phoenix had left for her. Slowly, surely, he pushed the Phoenix Force back with sheer force of Will, and Jean thought for a moment that he might be able to defeat it. The Phoenix had bit off more than it could chew with Harry James Potter. He had dispelled the Nether Force, destroyed Voldemort, restored light to the lost city of the Ancients. He could do anything.</p>
<p>The Phoenix <em>purred. </em></p>
<p>And Jean was, unceremoniously, <em>spat</em> back out.</p>
<p>The White-Hot Room collapsed inwards, and Jean shrieked as the world around her was restored to life. Sound, sight, smell, touch, all of it came rushing back to her. The crashing thundering echo of the city as it burned, the ash flooding her nose, the searing fires of the Phoenix as it burned her skin, and the rush of the wind as she plummeted through the sky.</p>
<p>The Phoenix, now silhouetted against the night as a bird of fire once more, hostless, dove towards Harry like an arrow of red power. But Harry, casting a single furtive glance towards Jean ash she fell, planted his feet wide apart and thrust his right hand forward, wand in the left.</p>
<p>“Adiuro te in speculo!!!”</p>
<p>He closed his hand into a fist, a symbol carved into his skin blazed with white energy… and the Phoenix <em>collided </em>with the air around him as it shattered like a reflective mirror. Harry strained to keep his fist closed as he used the glowing point of his wand to pull more and more of the Phoenix into the shattered air. What was that thing?</p>
<p>“Arresto Momentum!”</p>
<p>Jean, still shrieking, slammed to a halt, inches from the ground, then dropped onto soft grass. Then a hand was there, pulling her upright. Ginny Potter.</p>
<p>Jean totally had a crush on her too, full disclosure.</p>
<p>“It wants you!” Jean exclaimed, rushing the words. “It wouldn’t tell me why, but it’ll do anything to get…”</p>
<p>A sleek black jet with two propellers embedded withing the wings shot overhead, and at the same time, a man wearing black armour lined with purple and silver rushed out of the darkness towards Harry. The last of the Phoenix’s power vanished into the mirror, and Harry released his fist and wand, collapsing, the armoured man just catching him.</p>
<p>The jet ground to a halt, hovering overhead, spotlights pointed at Harry.</p>
<p>“Did it work?” A speaker on the jet called out.</p>
<p>Everything was falling quiet, silent, the fires dying down, the screams fading away. Leaving just the whirring of the jet’s engines and Jean’s ragged breathing. She hadn’t reverted back to her real body. She was still an adult, and still wearing the outfit the Phoenix had made for her.</p>
<p>Ginny swallowed.</p>
<p>“I… I think so.”</p>
<p>The shriek of the Phoenix ripped through the burgeoning silence, and Ginny jerked away from Jean, hands flying to her head. There was an old scar on her hand, and the skin had just broken open, blood dripping everywhere.</p>
<p>“GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT NOT AGAIN I WON’T LET…”</p>
<p>Ginny <em>vanished.</em> Just <em>gone</em>. Poof. Into thin air. One second she was there, the next she wasn’t.</p>
<p>“Ginny!” Harry screamed, then the faded outline of the glyph on his hand blazed with red light, and he too disappeared. Right out of the man in black’s arms.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Thank you, Jean Grey.’</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh, god.”</p>
<p>The air beneath the jet cracked asunder, and a flaming talon shattered through the barrier to collide with the plane. One of its wings was torn free, the other propeller exploding in a shower of fire. The next second, the jet was spinning towards the ground, about to crash…</p>
<p>The man in black pulled something from his belt and tossed it at the Quinjet, where it collided with the nose.</p>
<p>“Shuri!” He bent his knees, then sprang with far more power than any man should have possessed, grabbing hold of the jet’s undercarriage as it tried to stay upright. The device now attached to the plane blinked twice, then the engines roared back to life, and the man in black actually pulled the jet down to the ground, preventing a crash.</p>
<p>Jean couldn’t bring herself to be happy. She was watching as the Phoenix crawled its way free of the glassy air. Trapped within its flames, were Harry <em>and </em>Ginny. It rose up into the air, gave one single cry of victory, and burst into embers, taking the two heroes with it.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Clint was having a bad day. Of course, this was not much of a marvel, as Clint had a lot of bad days. And on a scale, it wasn’t <em>that</em> bad, as he still had two arms and two legs. Still, between waking up this morning out of cereal in his apartment, having to jump into the Central Park to catch his dog after it decided to chase a duck, and surviving a plane crash, he was not having a terrific day.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Director Fury? Agent Romanoff? Agent Barton? Report!?”</em>
</p>
<p>The Quinjet was toast, burnt toast. The cockpit was crumpled, engines busted, and there was no way they were getting the ramp down.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Agents, Report!”</em>
</p>
<p>Shaking the ringing from his ears, Clint pressed a hand to the comms.</p>
<p>“We’re alright, Agent Gordon,” Clint wheezed. “BP saved our asses.”</p>
<p>Director Fury pulled himself upright, jaw clamped tightly shut as he started pounding against the window. Nat was unconscious on the ground in the back of the jet, but she hadn’t broken any bones he’d been able to find.</p>
<p><em>“What the status on the Phoenix? It vanished from our satellite surveillance.</em>”</p>
<p>Five claws slammed through the glass, then ripped it free, letting fresh air flood into the Quinjet’s body, and Clint breathed a sigh of relief. Ash filled relief, but still, relief.</p>
<p>Black Panther was standing atop the fuselage, offering a hand. Fury took it, letting the Wakandan pull him out of the craft. Once the Director was out, T’Challa caught sight of Romanoff, and Clint motioned that he was fine, so he moved to grab Clint’s red-haired partner.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Director, this is Agent Coulson. I’m with Agent Henshaw and the rest of my team. What’s going on down there?!”</em>
</p>
<p>“We got our assess kicked,” Fury hissed. Clint climbed out of the Quinjet behind T’Challa and Nat, his gaze settling on another red-head standing awkwardly a few metres away. The girl, Jean Grey. She was <em>stunning</em>, flawless, actually. Perfectly proportioned and skin so clear she might have been airbrushed within an inch of her life. She somehow seemed to scream ‘girl-next-door’, ‘Hollywood sex-kitten’ and ‘Victoria Secret model’ all at once. Clint actually forgot that she was only fifteen under all that for a moment. Then he slammed his foot into the side of the jet, and the scolding heat of the metal was more than enough to shock him back to rational thinking.</p>
<p>Clint rushed over to her, checking for injuries or wounds.</p>
<p>“Jean? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”</p>
<p>The girl swallowed, then nodded meekly.</p>
<p>“It took Harry and Ginny,” she whispered, voice trembling.</p>
<p>“I tried to stop it. But it locked me in my own head, turned me into… this.” She gestured to her body.</p>
<p>“Jean, are you <em>okay?</em>” Clint asked again, placing hands on her shoulders and giving her his best reassuring smile.</p>
<p>And just like that, the damn <em>shattered.</em> Jean burst into tears, and Clint pulled her into a hug, letting the girl weep into his uniform.</p>
<p>Another explosion rocked the city, but Clint kept her head down, stroking her the crying girl’s head. One of the nearby skyscrapers was buckling, falling towards the ground.</p>
<p>“We need to get out of here,” Nat said, and Clint glanced to the side to see she was awake, if leaning against Fury and T’Challa for support. “The girl needs to be moved to a safe location.”</p>
<p>“The Triskelion?” Clint suggested, but Fury shook his head.</p>
<p>“No. As advanced as our magical protections have gotten, I don’t think anything could stand against that thing if it comes for her again.”</p>
<p>“The Wakandan Shield might,” T’Challa started, but Fury cut him off.</p>
<p>“As formidable as it is, we can’t be sure. There’s only one place we can be certain she’ll be safe. As much as I don’t like it.”</p>
<p>“Atlantis,” Nat said. The Director nodded, then raised his hand to the comms unit in his ear.</p>
<p>“Agent Gordon, can you get Miss Brown and Miss Greengrass on the line. I need permission to enter the Potter’s City. We have Miss Grey… and they need to know the Phoenix has their leaders.”</p>
<p>Clint held Jean close as Fury and Nat deliberated in whispers over whether it was a good idea to trust the wizards. Clint couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment. T’Challa removed his helmet and sat down beside him, waiting until a shimmering silver-blue portal exploded into existence a short distance away.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Kara skidded to a stop as two people in the Ancient Armour, standing beside a young woman with stringy brown hair, evacuated what looked like a day-care centre, judging by the number of children running out the building’s bottom floor.</p>
<p>One of the skyscrapers was falling straight towards them.</p>
<p>“Nev!” The brown-haired girl screamed, clutching the man in the armour’s arm and pointing towards the falling building. The trio looked towards the children, running towards a shimmering blue portal a short distance down the street, older kids, guiding the younger. That must go to Atlantis, Kara reasoned. She hadn’t managed to get inside yet, though Skye had.</p>
<p>A mission for another time.</p>
<p>“Go with the kids!” Kara shouted to the trio before sprinting past them.</p>
<p>“What the fuck! Run chick!”</p>
<p>Kara almost snorted. Kara Zor-El didn’t <em>run</em> anywhere.</p>
<p>She launched herself into the sky, hair and clothes whipping in the wind as she shot towards the falling building, shattered glass raining all around her. Weaving about the debris, everything around her seemed to slow down as she reached the building side and pressed her hands against cool metal.</p>
<p>This… would be the heaviest thing she’d ever lifted. That was for sure. But Kara had once carried an entire pirate ship over her head, out of a whirlpool, <em>while </em>it was being attacked by a Kraken. A falling building should be easy, right?</p>
<p>She heaved against the metal, pushing all her strength against the building side. And just as they had every time before, her strength refused to fail her. The skyscrapers fall eased to a stop, Kara screaming as she pushed her weight against the building. The glass in the air around her even froze in the air, hovering in place, though the pieces already far from the building continued to fall.</p>
<p>Kara… she didn’t know how she could do these things. Why she was so strong, yet that strength broke the laws of physics. Why she could fly, or hear the screams of children kilometres away. She’d spent years searching for answers, helping where she could. The Warlocks in New Orleans had confirmed that she was no Witch; but nor did she carry any trace of a curse or blessing. So, what was she?</p>
<p>Right now, she was the saviour of these people.</p>
<p>That was more than enough.</p>
<p>She glanced to the ground, straining, muscles bulging against the strain. But she could see the last of the children rush into the portal, which snapped closed behind them. The trio remained. Or, actually, there was only two of them now. Where was the woman in the armour…</p>
<p>The wheezing of engines started to Kara’s left, and she turned to watch the armoured figure flying through the debris towards Kara.</p>
<p>“Get out of here! I’ve got this!” Kara told her.</p>
<p>“The grounds clear! The woman yelled. You can let go! I’ll apparate us out!”</p>
<p>“I’m invulnerable, I’ll be fine,” Kara told her. The woman, with mousey brown hair, grinned.</p>
<p>“Sweet. But I’ve still got you. Ready?”</p>
<p>Kara hesitated, then nodded as the metal beneath her hands started buckling.</p>
<p>She let go.</p>
<p>The building started falling again, the woman grabbed her…</p>
<p>And Kara was being compressed and sucked through the smallest tube imaginable, colours whirling and twisting out of control.</p>
<p>They snapped back into reality in a second, armour girl stepping aside as Kara puked into a house plant in front of her.</p>
<p>“First time?” armour girl asked with a knowing look.</p>
<p>“No,” Kara wheezed. “My body just hates magic.”</p>
<p>“Odd choice to be living in a magical city then.”</p>
<p>Point.</p>
<p>Kara stood up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve and wincing at the clothing’s rips and tears. She’d have to buy more… again.</p>
<p>“I’m just passing through. Was supposed to catch the hyperspace train to Tahiti in the morning.”</p>
<p>Armour girl grinned.</p>
<p>“I hear it’s a magical place.”</p>
<p>She held out her hand, and Kara took it, careful not to crush her hand – armour or no armour.</p>
<p>“I’m Demelza,” armour girl said.</p>
<p>“Kara.”</p>
<p>“You’re no druid; even they can’t fly like that. And I don’t think even Harry could lift an entire <em>building</em>. You a metahuman?”</p>
<p>Kara frowned.</p>
<p>“Metahuman?”</p>
<p>Demelza pursed her lips.</p>
<p>“Maybe not, then.” She shrugged, throwing an arm around Kara’s shoulders at the same time her phone started ringing.</p>
<p>“You should come back to Atlantis with us; Lav was just on the horn, the FPA battleships have jumped in, and they’re taking on refugees and wounded who haven’t already been evacuated. We can get you some clothes, and you can talk to Harry and Ginny. You’ve got some serious skills, and they’re always looking for people like that – when they aren’t trying to deal with the munchkins of course.”</p>
<p>Kara pulled her phone out, pressing it to her ear.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Kara! Thank Rao you’re okay. I saw you holding up that tower!”</em>
</p>
<p>“Relax Babs, I’m fine… wait you…”</p>
<p>
  <em>“YES! I’ve deleted the footage from the downed Quinjet cameras, and I’m pretty sure no one saw, but Fury and his Agents have just been given clearance into Atlantis, and without either Potter – they’ve been nabbed by that bird thingo. If you want your secret to stay a secret, DO NOT enter the city. At least, not right now.”</em>
</p>
<p>Kara sighed. So much for that. Metahuman… she’d have to investigate that once she was done with the Aten Mer of Tahiti – one of the oldest Mer clans. Their high-priestess had agreed to meet with Kara next week. Supposedly, the Aten Mer had one of the oldest languages on Earth. If even they didn’t know where the language Kara could speak came from, the only part of her lost home she had left… That would be her last lead.</p>
<p>She couldn’t afford to waste that.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Kara? You still there?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah. Yeah, I heard you. Thanks for the warning Babs. I appreciate it. And thanks for covering for me.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Always babe. Always. I’ll tell Lena, Alex and Lex that I spoke to you.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Thanks.” She hung up and placed the phone back in her pocket, sighing.</p>
<p>“Bad news?” Demelza asked.</p>
<p>Kara sighed.</p>
<p>“Sort of.”</p>
<p>Demelza nodded, then reached <em>into</em> her armour, and withdrew a <em>coin?</em> The letters <em>DA </em>were printed on the front. She handed the coin to Kara.</p>
<p>“If you ever need to get into the city, grip the coin and ask for entry. It’s an emergency passkey. Should get you through the gate shield. Then ask for me, I’ll vouch for you.”</p>
<p>Kara smiled softly.</p>
<p>“Thanks.”</p>
<p>Demelza shrugged.</p>
<p>“My pleasure. You saved all those kids, that means you’re a hero. And heroes are always welcome in Atlantis.” She waved farewell, then disapparated.</p>
<p>Kara took a deep breath, then looked towards the sky. Guess she was going the long way to Tahiti. Tucking the coin in her indestructible and extended bag – another gift from the Warlocks – she launched herself into the sky and started flying towards the barrier.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>*Kara and Babs’ story concludes in The Lost Daughter of Krypton: An Enigmaverse Story. You can find it on our profile.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Atlantis, the North Atlantic Ocean</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">May 20th, 2006</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>3 days later…</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Jean rushed into the Control Room of Atlantis just as three people stepped through the Stargate. A tall, African-American man, a white man with curly blonde hair, and a woman with long brown locks and matching caramel skin. An odd trio to be sure.</p>
<p>“What’s happened?” The white man asked, scanning the Bridge and no doubt noticing precisely who was missing.</p>
<p>Jean imagined that the City of Atlantis was not usually this dour. After all, the place was absolutely <em>stunning.</em> But since she’d arrived, and Fury had explained to everyone that Harry and Ginny had been taken… well, the mood had never once risen above <em>doomed. </em>It certainly didn’t help that the Black Panther and three SHIELD Agents, all of whom were not supposed to be in the city, were currently also on the Bridge.</p>
<p>And it was all Jean’s fault.</p>
<p>She should have been able to control the Phoenix, do something to stop it… or… oh she didn’t know.</p>
<p>The only saving grace had been that she’d reunited with her grandpas’. The Atlantis staff had been kind to her, helping her, checking her over, but it was clear they weren’t sure what to do with her without Harry or Ginny. Daphne Greengrass, a tall, somewhat stern blonde girl, was currently in charge of the city’s day-to-day running, while Lavender Brown was running point on the hunt for Harry and Ginny. Director Fury, Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff had been confined to guest-quarters one level below them and permitted to move only between the quarters and the Bridge, always accompanied by guards.</p>
<p>As far as Jean knew, they’d abided by the restriction. Of course, that could just mean they’d all snuck out without being detected. But counter to that, the City’s UI was watching them twenty-four-seven, and they probably knew sneaking would earn them instant dumping into the surrounding ocean at best, in a cell at worst.</p>
<p>Jean had been helping Ginny’s mother Molly care for Harry and Ginny’s daughters Jessica and Lily. The girls were still recovering from Dragon-Pox, and, according to Molly, were far from their rambunctious and hyperactive selves. But Jean enjoyed the distraction, and it allowed her to assuage some of her guilt.</p>
<p>“Danny…” Lavender started, tears falling from her eyes once more. Jean had seen her cry several times in the past few days.</p>
<p>“Harry and Ginny have been taken… by the Phoenix.”</p>
<p>A still crying Lavender led Danny, Luke and Kamala – ex-Defenders – into Ginny’s private office, through a secret wall passage in the room with the glowing chair. Jean had come to realise that was ‘Ginny’s Chair’ as whenever the witch was mentioned, everyone would look towards the chair in anguish. The office was a cosy space, with a couch in the corner, and open balcony, a small mahogany desk in the corner, and a large wooden table surrounded by wheely chairs like a conference table.</p>
<p>By the time Fury, Romanoff and Clint arrived, Daphne had caught the newcomers up on everything that had happened in Alcheringa, as well as Jean’s identity. Clint sat down next to Jean, placing a hand on her knee under the table, for which she was secretly thankful. He was a kind man, and she felt so bad for crying on him like she had. But he’d taken her aside when they reached the city and told her all about his own dark past. About how he’d had to grow up fast too.</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s hard. It’s messy. You hate it. You don’t know which way’s up and which way’s down. But you gotta remember. You’re still you. Young, old, or hag. Magical firebird or teenager. At the end, who we are doesn’t change. That’s what you’ve got to hold on to, Jean. Remember who you are. Always.”</em>
</p>
<p>She could do that, even in this adult body. She had to remember. She was still Jean Grey. Other Jean’s had tamed the Phoenix, the creature had told her as such. That meant she could do it too. She just needed to figure out how.</p>
<p>“We found something in Kun Lun,” Danny explained. “A way to maybe stop the Phoenix if we can find it again.”</p>
<p>“How?” Fury demanded.</p>
<p>“An Iron Fist was able to hold the Force in the past, which means my powers should be able to hurt it. But what’s key is this. The Aether Force can apparently temper the Phoenix’s power enough that the host can properly bind it to their control.”</p>
<p>Jean snapped to attention. Something to help her master the power? If she had an edge, a chance… she could do it. She wouldn’t fail again.</p>
<p>“But we don’t <em>have</em> the Aether Force,” Lavender said, shaking her head.</p>
<p>“Why? What is this Aether Force?” Romanoff asked, forearms on the wooden table, sea-breeze from the balcony rustling gorgeous red locks that made Jean feel utterly pathetic, despite the make-over the Phoenix had done to her. Though, Jean had a feeling Natasha Romanoff made everyone feel self-conscious.</p>
<p>The wizards and witches all looked to one another, clearly debating whether or not to answer. Eventually, they deferred to Daphne, though Fury’s face twitched as she started talking.</p>
<p>“The Aether Force is one of the Enigma Forces. Specifically, the force of growth and cosmic good. It’s supposed to be wielded by the Sorcerer Supreme, but the Vishanti still haven’t appointed a new one since Doctor Strange was killed by Voldemort.”</p>
<p>“So we go to these Vishanti and get a new one appointed. Problem solved,” Clint said, sitting back in his chair and grinning.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t work like that,” Kamala said softly.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“The Vishanti are gods. Ascended Beings. They don’t live on Earth, no one knows <em>where</em> they came from at all. Just that they show up from time to time and declare a new Sorcerer Supreme. You can’t <em>go looking</em> for them.”</p>
<p>Fury’s face twitched again, and Jean scooted her wheely chair away from him slightly.</p>
<p>“What can we do then?” Romanoff asked, still calm and collected. The entire table sat in silence.</p>
<p>Until a voice called out from the Control Room.</p>
<p>“Guys?”</p>
<p>It was Doctor Granger.</p>
<p>“In here Hermione!” Daphne called, and a few seconds later, Hermione appeared, a diminutive man beside her, who looked a bit like a Goblin. Though he wore wizard clothes and glasses, so maybe not.</p>
<p>“Sorry I’m late! Professor Flitwick just had a breakthrough…”</p>
<p>“What?” Fury asked, spinning on the little man. “Something about the Window? About the Phoenix?”</p>
<p>Flitwick – which Jean thought was a <em>brilliant</em> name – beamed.</p>
<p>“The mist that was leaking out of the opening? It was <em>LifeLight!”</em> The witches and wizards sucked in a collective gasp, while the humans just blinked.</p>
<p>“LifeLight? What the fuck is LifeLight?” Fury asked.</p>
<p>Hermione and Flitwick took seats at the table as Daphne and Lavender started arguing under their breaths.</p>
<p>Eventually, it appeared as though Lavender won, as Daphne sat back in her seat and directed a sneer towards Fury.</p>
<p>Then Lavender started talking, in a voice like the prophets of old, speaking ancient dooms.</p>
<p> “LifeLight is something we discovered on our first trip off-world…”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">The End of Act II</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Next time on Blessing of the Phoenix…</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With Harry and Ginny taken by the Phoenix, the Atlanteans and SHIELD will have to work together to save them. They have a solution, a dangerous one, but only Jean Grey can put the plan into action and save the Potters and bring them home. But shadows grow ever longer, the Magical Cold War threatens to turn hot, what is the Phoenix’s ultimate endgame, and what is the mysterious LifeLight the Atlanteans found on Dakara?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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